My Sick Mind

We love our holidays. We're into a big one now, and even bigger ones to follow. This one, we are told, is all about giving thanks for something and realizing how fortunate we are to live when we do - or to live at all. Nice and schmaltzy, as the holidays were intended. But, we don't just like a holiday. We like a holiday with something substantial attached to it. I'm not talking about remembering war veterans, giving thanks or celebrating America. I'm talking about big sales at a store, eating and drinking. The eating thing is attached to this one, to the point that we wish people a "Happy Turkey Day" instead of using the more traditional Thanksgiving name. When I go back to work on Monday I'll be asked what I had for dinner on Thursday. When I say I had chicken, I'll get that quizzical look and the "What, no turkey?" question, which implies that I violated some sacred holiday tradition. In fact, the tradition is the holiday, and we have ch...

I'm not sure whom to thank. Should I thank Franklin Roosevelt for making October 12 a federal holiday in 1937 or Richard Nixon for making it the second Monday in October in 1971? Or should I thank Major League Baseball for scheduling a playoff game for 10:07pm EDT so that clowns like me could stay up until 2:15am to watch Brad Lidge's last pitch and the Phils' 5-4 victory? Or should I thank my employer for recognizing this strange day as part of a three-day weekend so I could stay up until 2:15am? So many choices. Let's call it a four-way tie. And by the way, a special "thank you" to Major League Baseball and TNT who couldn't possibly give up their NUMB3RS and Law & Order repeats so that a baseball game could be played at a reasonable time. The Yankees/Twins game ran late, so the start of the Phillies/Rockies had to be moved from TBS to TNT, where tens of viewers were no doubt chomping at the bit (is it champing or chomping ?) to see NUMB3RS for...

It's Columbus Day, where we celebrate a dumb guy who thought he was someplace, but was really someplace else. Days like this should be accompanied by heavy drinking, but instead, I chose to do some housework. Go ahead, question my sanity. I got to the point where I needed some food, but I hadn't showered or shaved since Sunday morning, and I looked like Andre Agassi on a 3-day binge. The only viable solution was the poorly named drive-thru. It's really more of a drive- by . If Billy Joel was using it, it may be a drive-thru, but he doesn't do his own cleaning. The drive-by in question was the neighborhood Long John Silver's, which, beside being a cool porn actor name, is a good place to get some greasy fried fish. It is conjoined with Taco Bell, in a one-stop food extravaganza. Nothing hits the spot on a phony holiday like some greasy fried fish. I decided, after ample self-debate, to go with the venerable "LJ8" selection. Two pieces of fish, 3 pieces of c...