Thanksgiving comes gobbling

Ol’ Dutch was sitting up in a tree the other day when 50 wild turkeys walked by. Now, before you think I have finally flipped my rocker let me explain a tad further.

For the uninformed and even those slightly aware of men's idiosyncrasies, normally sane, grown men will climb into a tree and sit there in biting wind, rain and cold in order to tag a deer.

These men would quit a job that asked them to endure such hardships, but when it comes to hunting, those same men will sit there quiet as a church mouse for hours on end just for a chance to shoot a deer or another game animal.

Ah, but this column isn’t about hunting, but the turkeys made me think of Turkey Day which came around the bend like Mario Andretti in the final of the Indy 500.

Ol' Dutch is lucky enough this year to be at #1 son's house in Kansas for the event and his in-laws have invited Trixie and me for eats and drinks on the big day.  

Living in an RV has many advantages including going where we want when we want, visiting my kids on a regular basis, seeing the USA, fishing and hunting across the nation, with no possibility of overnight guests.

The biggest advantage, however, is not having room to host ANYTHING. Events such as birthdays with the cake all over the floor; Super Bowl parties where guests drink too much and toilets overflow; cookouts and other casual gathering are always held at “someone else's house” which is also called, “nirvana.” 

All Ol' Dutch has to do nowadays is show up, eat, drink and leave in exactly that order for all to be well with the world. Now it's not that I don't like hosting. When I was in the “cohabiting in peace stage” with the ex-wife we had a nice house with a huge open floor plan and always hosted every holiday.

I soon found out why everyone was happy to come to our place. After they left, there was a mess to clean up, outside planters had been backed over by cars, and Uncle Bill had missed the toilet bowl – several times. Now it has finally dawned on me that all of them were older than me at the time and they had learned the secret to holidays: never host.

This isn't to say I am not thankful for all that I have. My usual input now to the family gatherings is saying the blessing over the meal and I can usually put together a nice little ditty with the proper references for the occasion at hand. 

Thanksgiving is no different from other celebratory events except now instead of having to say something nice about Bob on his birthday, I can choose from a litany of things around me to be thankful for.

For those of you who will also be tasked with saying the blessing, let me give you a few pointers. 

You can never go wrong being thankful for grandchildren, children and even for old Aunt Edna who made it one more year -- her wool skirt smelling like cedar from the hope chest and her Estee Lauder perfume stinking up the room.

There are certain things you may want to shy away from such as politics. Don't thank the Lord for the President or even ask for guidance for the man as you will be speaking to a mixed demographic group, half of which hate his guts and will feel compelled to let you know that soon after the prayer ends. This usually then leads to what is known as “strife” and someone leaving early which in reality is a good thing as it means an extra piece of pie for me.

If you need inspiration for your prayer, look around the room. They are not only your audience, but also your potential subject matter.  

If you cannot be thankful for one single one of them -- which can happen in certain families – then, at least be thankful for the turkey who gave his life for you this day.

And, if that doesn’t work, skip the meal, go sit in your tree stand and be thankful you are not at home.

A failure to communicate

Most of us recall Paul Newman’s iconic movie “Cool Hand Luke.” In that film the warden played by Strother Martin first utters the phrase: “What we've got here is a failure to communicate."

No matter where you have been, lived, worked, slept, eaten, sat, stood or walked, someone somewhere has spoken these words to you when your attention maybe lapsed for a brief instance. These lapses are known in relationships as “being a man” but can also occur in the female of the species on rare occasions.

I was listening to Trixie talk to her dear friend Annie Oakley the other day about Annie's boyfriend. Now neither Annie nor her boyfriend are spring chickens by any stretch of the imagination, both being over 60 --- which is either ancient or young to my readers depending on which side of that mark you find yourself.

Ol' Dutch could follow along with the conversation pretty good until it came to the part about their relationship and how it was doing.

A man faced with asking his buddy about his girlfriend would simply say something along the lines of “How is Mary Beth doing?” To which his buddy would say “Pretty good” or “she ran off with the butcher” and that would end the discussion and they could get back to discussing golf, fishing, hunting or the latest Gold Rush television episode.

But with Trixie and other women I have been around, life is not that simple. You would think a simple “and how are you and Billy Bob getting along?” would suffice but no, that is just not possible with this crowd.

"How is Billy Bob’s spiritual, psychological and physiological health nowadays?” Trixie asked Annie Oakley.

And, with this one question, I began to suddenly understand more about women than I have in my 59 long years. What in the wide wide world of sports did that mean anyway?

I sat there aghast and even though I am not sure what that word means, my mouth was open and I had that far away, can’t believe what I just heard look in my eyes.

And that, my friends, is the problem we have in relationships. Not only is there a failure to communicate, the female of the species has decided to make it almost impossible to do so for us heathen men because they use words not found in common life outside of Graduate School Psych classes.

Plus add that to the fact that even when you agree with a woman you usually end up in trouble. Lord help the man who says “what do you want me to say?” when faced with an unwinnable situation. That question, for the uninitiated, is seen as a smart ass remark.

Recently I was heading out the door for a day away from “the boss,” I mean sweet Trixie, and caught her up in my arms to kiss her in the most romantic fashion. Or something like that.

Trixie pulled away and said “I haven't brushed my teeth yet.” This caught me off guard as a man, I had gone quite a bit out of my way and lowered my manly shields to try and be more than a standard clod in coming back to kiss her face before leaving. Not knowing what else to say I fell back on 31 years of marriage encounters and agreed with her saying, “I know.”

That must have been the wrong choice gentlemen as the kiss disappeared into the sea of forgetfulness and Ol' Dutch had to head out the door dejected.

So if you are in a relationship -- married or not -- realize that you are never going to be talking on the same wavelength as your beloved no matter how many books you buy from Dr. Phil.

Someone gave me a coffee cup the other day that said, “Mr. Right” and I was feeling pretty good about that until Trixie opened hers and it said, “Mrs. Always Right.” And therein is the wisdom of the ages in three simple words.