Thanks, and stuff(ing)

 Happy Turkeycide Day to all who observe out there, and, please, don't get in fights at the dinner table with your butthead uncle who thinks Joe Biden directed the FBI to shoot Abraham Lincoln because he was a Republican.  Someone might spill the gravy, and then where would we be?

 No, this being the designated day in America to give thanks, it's time to be thankful. And the Blob is, for a bunch of stuff. Stuffing of course included.

What am I thankful for here on Thanksgiving?

I'm thankful for Patrick Mahomes, Jalen Hurts, Dak Prescott, Lamar Jackson and every other quarterback in the NFL who hasn't been hurt yet. Although there's still time.

I'm thankful for high school football, which wraps up in Lucas Oil Stadium this weekend with the state championships. Go Snider, Bishop Luers and Adams Central, the area entrants. As Shooter said in "Hoosiers," kick their butts.

I'm thankful for San Antonio Spurs coach Gregg Popovich, who got on the P.A. the other night and told the home fans to knock off booing Kawhi Leonard, on account of Kawhi was once a Spur and deserved their respect. Yeah, I know, the fans pay a king's ransom to get into NBA games and therefore have every right to boo when they want, and they don't need Pops lecturing them about it. But it was still kinda cool.

I'm thankful that deal at the Canadian border yesterday was just a gruesome car crash, not a terrorist attack. I realize this came as a great disappointment to the MAGAs and their fellow travelers, who apparently are so eager to see another terrorist attack on American soil they were loudly declaring it one before the flames had died down. But disappointment is part of life, boys and girls.

I'm thankful for college football rivalry games, even the cruddy ones like the Old Oaken Bucket game. Rivalry games are what separate college football from the NFL, even if hardly anything else does these days.

(Oh, the NFL likes to pretend it has rivalry games, but it doesn't really. Army-Navy, Yale-Harvard, Michigan-Ohio State, Auburn-Alabama et al just laugh and point and call them  posers when the NFL does that)

I'm thankful, finally, for the little things: The way the trees blaze orange and red this time of year, and the way the house smells when a pecan pie comes out of the oven, and the way our crazy dog makes me laugh sometimes, and turns me into a soft-hearted sap the rest of the time.

I'm also thankful for seeing another year on the right side of the dirt. It's never a given, ya know, so you gotta cherish it.

"Wow," you're saying now. "You really are a soft-hearted sap."

Ah, dummy up. And pass the gravy.