1,000 Posts On WordPress/ Giving Thanks

This is my 1,000th post on wordpress.  I’ve been writing here for over three years.  I have written some god-awful crap, and i’ve written some real gems.  I’ve learned a lot in the time that has passed, a lot about the world, a lot about myself, and I have tried to be honest about it and tell you, dear reader, everything that I have learned.

Not to pass on knowledge, for my readers are after all smarter than I. It is to mark the passage of one man from ignorance to wisdom, what little wisdom I have acquired (If it is wisdom at all that I have acquired I leave for you to judge), to mark the passage of time, to show the world that I can do what I set my mind to do. 

I tell you that I am a better man for my experience writing here.  I thank you all dear readers, for sticking with me while I make this journey.  Stick with me a while longer, the journey is not yet over.


Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain — This Life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.

Omar Khayyam


There are a great many things I give thanks for this Thanksgiving day. 

I give thanks for a family that is giving of themselves to me, far more than I deserve.  I have little, and rarely can give anything to anyone, rare is it when I can do for someone else.  For these wonderful people to give and do for me is a humbling experience, one which I am hoping to return to them someday.  For those who do for me usually don’t have much themselves. 

I try to thank them, honor them, however I can, in hopes that in some small way I can return the honor given.

I give thanks to my wife for putting up with my ugly, oafish self. 

I give thanks that I live in such a beautiful world, with such extraordinary people.

I give thanks to those who have blazed the trail of freedom before me that helped create the U.S. of A.  George Washington, George Mason, Patrick Henry, James Madison.

I give thanks for the food in my stomach, the roof over my head, and the warmth of hearth and home I feel.

I give thanks that I live and breathe and walk and talk, that I survived to do these simple things for as long as I have.


If it was easy, everyone would do it rather than going around telling you their ideas and saying how they could be a writer if they had the time.

Arthur Jolly


Viddy of the day: Ernest Hemingway on fishing and writing.


The sun has long since set.  The brisk winds howl, the clouds swirl silently in the distance, moving to the east quickly, the moon shining through the breaks in the clouds.  What little traffic there is moves along, dragging small, light pieces of debris in their wake as they pass, bags and papers floating behind, dragged in the direction of the moving traffic.  Light plays off of the cars, the houses and my watch as I walk, bundled up in the cool of the night.

I look up, as the moon peaks out momentarily.   The look is pensive, unhappy.  “The world could be better”, I think to myself, “at least a little cleaner.”  As if to point this out, a piece of paper blows in from the street and wraps around my left foot.  I kick it off, shrug, and keep moving. Leaves blow around my ankles, seemingly running in circles.

“The world could be better…”  The phrase keeps turning in my head.  “The world could be better…”  Of course it could, but it isn’t.  I didn’t make it the way it is, and cannot fix it.  Not sure I’d want to, I think to myself.  If all the people who know so much more than I can’t fix it, what chance would I have of making it better?

I make a left turn, the debris is gone, but the cars and the wind are still there.   A car goes by, bass thundering, indecipherable music playing, the driver  leans to his right, trying to look cool,  cocooned in his pretty car, and his pretty noise, and his pretty clothes, pretending it’s important.  Staring at the black BMW as it goes by, I can’t help but think “loser”.

There’s more to the world than things.  Especially when it involves those pretty boys with their pretty toys.  I shake my head.  What the hell, who cares about him.  There are bigger things happening. 

The economy is bad.  Better than it was 2 years ago, but still bad.  Ireland is about to go belly up.  The Korean peninsula look like it’s about to explode.  I haven’t had a real job in almost 2 years. Paying the rent looks like a big question mark at this point.  I could give a rats ass about Vinny “No nuts” in the beemer.

I look closer at one house.  Christmas lights being put up in the window of a house near the corner I just turned. 

Christmas is coming. Christmas with my wife.  My wife.  I have someone wonderful in my life, a help who has been and will be there for me.  This simple, obvious realization brings a smile.  “The world could be worse, too.”  I think to myself.   “I have a home, a wife that loves me. ” 

I smile a small smile, and keep moving.  Leaves blow around, a car goes by. I bury myself deeper in my jacket and move quicker towards home.  ”  Love is enough.”


That’s it from here America.  Enjoy Thanksgiving night!


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