I’m approaching the ninth anniversary of my running streak.  Today was my 3,250th consecutive daily run that was completed in a rainy darkness. It’s hard to believe that “the streak” has continued this long, and even harder to imagine that it will ever end.  Yesterday, it was pouring rain so hard that I had to use the treadmill in our upstairs foyer.  I complained when my wife bought it a couple of years ago, but it comes in handy on inclement days, plus I can read a book at the same time.

I just dropped the dogs off at the spa, picked up the dry cleaning, and enjoyed a McDonald’s breakfast.  My optician’s office was closed for Thanksgiving, and it made me think about those days at work when there really wasn’t much to do.  Thanksgiving was always a great holiday, because there was no stress of gift giving coupled with a four-day weekend.  There was usually a pot luck or pitch-in luncheon, and many offices were closed all week.  Everyone at the office was in a good mood, as thoughts of turkey and gravy “danced in our heads.” In retirement, these holidays become less significant, because really every day is a holiday now.

It’s a big weekend of sports, as I.U., Indiana University, battles Purdue University for the “Old Oaken Bucket,” with this year’s victor receiving a bowl bid and the loser going home empty handed. I.U.’s soccer team will play for a Third Round NCAA Tournament victory and hopefully continue their undefeated season.  There’s an I.U. basketball game that could be part of our Leadership Meeting on Black Friday, and the start of the Phil Knight 80th Birthday celebration at the Moda Center.  Sixteen Nike college schools, including the University of Oregon, will battle in this three-day round-robin basketball spectacle here in Portland. Since the event is all about shoe promotion, I propose that we call it the Feet Sixteen as a play on the NCAA’s “Sweet Sixteen.” My wife is upset that I’ll be at the games, rather than spending time with her during this span when she’s not working. Instead, I’ll be in the dog house, but at least it may be the Butler Bulldog house, as her alma mater is part of this turkey tournament.

We’ll break bread on Thanksgiving afternoon, walk the dogs each morning, spend a day in wine country, go to a movie together, and then go our separate ways once it’s game time. Her daughters are also not going to be with her this weekend, so she’s not very thankful about that either. Thankfully, this is a one-time event, so the next time that basketball might interfere with Thanksgiving will be in 2020 when the I.U. basketball team goes to Hawaii to play in the Maui Classic. We went a few years ago, but she at least had a sunny beach to keep her content while I went to the games. She does not enjoy most sporting events, but has also sacrificed several Thanksgivings to go to Indiana Pacers games while we lived in Indianapolis, and the Texas vs. Texas A&M game during our residency in Austin, Texas.

I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving and that your team wins. I offer this poem in honor of the occasion and the decoration on our front door:

The Sign 

Every year in November,
A decoration on our door.
A turkey-shaped sign reads,
“Thanks” and nothing more.

It’s many years old,
Long past its prime.
Perhaps a bit rusty,
Replacement time?

So what do you do?
Just toss it away?
Don’t throw away Thanks,
What does that say?

Does it go back in storage?
Or in the trash bin?
It has a golden message,
Though it’s made of tin.

Can’t trash gratefulness,
Or discount gratitude.
You must always have,
A thoughtful attitude.

Give praise for what you have,
Many blessings to count.
Give to others,
Whatever the amount.

Don’t dispose of hope,
It’s the season of giving.
Show your appreciation,
Happy Thanksgiving.

Copyright 2010 johnstonwrites.com