It’s that time of year again. Actually, it’s always that time of year again.
It’s never been “that time of year for the first time.” Except for maybe the first time anybody ever had a calendar. Like, I bet for the first caveman that ever made a calendar, scratching it on his cave wall or whatever, he got to say “It’s that time of year! For the first time!” and everyone was impressed. But the next year he had to kind of put a good face on it and say “it’s that time of year… again!” but nobody was really impressed at that point. They were all, “Yeah, Grog, it’s called the ‘holidays.’”
But it is. It is the Holidays. It’s that time of year again. Starting with the holiday of thankfulness, Thanksgiving, and ending with Ditch New Years Resolutions Day on Jan. 17. And each one of those holidays has its historical meaning and its cultural symbolic meaning. For example, Thanksgiving has a historical meaning, largely fictitious, about a shared meal between Native Americans and pilgrims. It also has a cultural meaning about being content with what you have. It’s a really sweet thought that gets rudely interrupted by Black Friday, which is historically about stores clearing out shelves for their Christmas stock, but is culturally about getting more stuff. But don’t even ask me how much I spent.
But back to Thanksgiving. I’ve been thinking about it in a different way lately. About thankfulness, at least. I’ve been trying to lessen my focus on being thankful for abstract things, such as “family” and “love,” and be more thankful for more concrete things, like my brother Solomon, and my favorite pair of gloves. After all, Julie Andrews sang about “wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings,” and “schnitzel with noodles,” not “hot food and migratory birds in general.”
Following a holiday celebrating thankfulness and gratitude of the abstract and ceremonious (family, friends, etc), I think it’s important to be thankful for the tangible and ubiquitous. When the sudden and temporary freeze comes in the morning I’m learning to be thankful for the delicate structures of the hoar frost. And the hidden hoary marmot. And the Marmot jacket I make sure to wear if I’m going to be outside long enough to notice either of those things (I’m also thankful for Second Wind Sports so I could afford it!).
Have you ever seen, maybe in a museum or in person, the intricate, artful and incredibly engineered clothing made by Alaska Natives? I’m talking specifically about the rain-proof sealskin suits and boots. I would start to be thankful that I don’t have to make my own rain suit from scratch and dead animal, but I have to stop myself there; I’m more impressed and thankful for the fact that people are so resourceful that we’re actually capable of it. And I don’t think that our capacity to make our beloved brown rubber boots is any less impressive, technologically speaking, although I am far removed from the factories and engineers and complex shipping practices needed to bring them to my freezing-wet feet. The effort isn’t as personal, nor as visible. But either way they keep me dry, and I’m thankful.
And yes, I’m thankful for the crusty-snowed Eaglecrest on which I can take them. Thankful for the four-wheel drive on my car that I need to get there. For the four-day weekend after Thanksgiving. For my turkey and cranberry sauce leftovers. For the wild highbush cranberry plant behind my house that, through the snow, has held on to its sour fruit with perseverance. I’m thankful for the Perseverance Theater company. For the sidewalk on South Douglas that I’ve walked so many times. For campfires on Sandy Beach, late into the cold night, even in the snow and hoar frost. It’s that time of year again.
It’s also the time of the year for those lovely radio pledge drives that we do to support our local radio stations. I listed to the radio to a near-unhealthy degree, so I heartily encourage everyone to do so as well, to lessen my guilt. If you’re not in the habit of listening to talk radio, it’s not a bad time to start. Are you into old-time radio, or skits and music? A soft place to start is the Prairie Home Companion, now hosted by the greatest living mandolin deity, Chris Thile. It’s basically the radio equivalent of comfort food, and one of the best programs around (Saturdays at 4 p.m.). I wouldn’t miss it.
If you’re more into factual, informative radio, but in a cutting edge format, I emphatically recommend RadioLab on Saturdays at 1 p.m. As content goes, it’s Gump’s box of chocolates, but the form is surprisingly transporting. The last, but probably best, of my favorites is the philosophical and religious “On Being” with Krista Tippet at 1p.m. Sunday. I can’t recommend it enough.
Anyway, I hope you find time to try out KTOO 104.3 at some point if you don’t already. If you do, maybe you haven’t heard about some of these shows, and you want to give them a try. And if you’re so inspired, make a list of things you’re thankful of. After all, it’s that time of year. Again.
• Guy About Town appears the first and third Sunday of every month and includes seasonal musings on what changes and what doesn’t in a small town. Guy can be reached at unzicker.music@gmail.com.
