E-Town is chilled this Thanksgiving Day - the coldest Thanksgiving in our region since 1956. The wind is whipping around, up to 40 mph. gusts. Twenty degrees feels like zero degrees when that wind hits you in the face. The sun is out and the landscape looks brittle. We had a dusting of snow on Tuesday night, but it was warm enough on Wednesday to burn it away.
I hosted the blues jam at Evanston's local blues club on Tuesday. The house was full, and a few musicians didn't get to play - they were pissed off. Being the jam host is a pretty thankless job. I refuse to let anarchy reign on the bandstand, so some folks don't like me. Hey, I can live with that.
My extended family celebrated Thanksgiving early this year - my adult son was in town for a visit last weekend, so we hosted 23 people to dinner last Saturday night; turkey and the trimmings. I am the cook on Thanksgiving and I smoked a 27 pound "free range" turkey on the Weber grill. Our dinner tonight will be roast beef - we have been eating turkey every day this week and we need a change.
As I fiddle around my kitchen cooking turkey soup and reading recipes, I realize that I am living a privileged life. My dear Mexican-American wife sometimes refers to our situation as "a cushy white-ass life." She is correct. We are distributing some desserts to the local soup kitchens today, but that is a pittance, a symbolic gesture. I am not sure whether I am feeling gratitude or guilt for my fortunate circumstances.