That Thankfulness Thing 2014 - Part Three Of Three (Thankfully)

First, there was 2012's That Thankfulness Thing. Then, because "quit while you're ahead" is nonsense, there was More Of That, in 2013.  Now, because a few weeks ago, I foolishly felt that something was missing from my growing list of Good Stuff, I've gone and done it again - in three bite-size parts, this time.

So.

By way of wrapping things up and putting a bow on them, here are the final ten (of thirty) things for which I am feeling especially thankful, at this time...

21.  Spam emails.  Job offers from moystTV (ew) and A8C73 E7f19359DE260a.  Other offers from [random letters, numbers, spaces, underscores, dashes, and other punctuation] - like "G.UC.C.I WATCHES AT CHEAP PRiCE," or "Sale: CANADIAN MEDICINE SHOP EXCLUSIVE MALL."  That last one was addressed to "Joe san."  ((bow))

22.  Covers, which here means the 18 different renditions of "Tomorrow Never Knows" currently residing on my old-school iPod - or maybe the 9 versions I have of "In The Year 2525."  As long as your mind's ears remain open, these things are wonders.

23.  Right Turn On Red.  Sadly, I remember when this was new.  Can you imagine having to sit there, watching no cars go by, unable to make your turn simply because of the color of the traffic light?  Horrors!  Bonus points for those who remember that, early on, the sign also said "After Stop."  Hahahaha... After WHAT??  That's priceless!

24.  Beth Greene.  I know she wasn't real.  I also know that she wasn't necessarily the best-acted (or even best-written) character on television, but I'll miss her, just the same.  She was part of the family - "her beauty and her innocence a credit to the South."  There's a hole in our hearts tonight, young lady.

25.  The martini.  It is truly an acquired taste, and I've acquired it.  Also, SO easy to make, but so hard to make well, but I'm gradually acquiring that skill, as well.

Bombay Sapphire, straight-up, twist, very cold.

26.  Particles.

27.  Movie Day.  [Maris] picks 'em, we both watch 'em.  Sometimes, there are drinking movies, like "A Million Ways To Die In The West," or "Phil The Alien."  Sometimes, chick flicks.  Loud blockbuster stuff.  Indy stuff.  Themes, like 80s night, or comic book adaptations, or spy night, or Mad Max day.  Even when it's bad, it's good.

28.  Self checkout.  Not really.  On the one hand, I adore being able to procure my Mexican Coke, Kickstart, and Funyons without interacting with another human.  On the other hand, I loathe the notion that I'm being conditioned to like doing the grocery store's work for them, and I don't like the stress induced by the slightest delay that results from any misstep on my part, or digital faux pas on the part of the hardware.  Yes, I know these aren't bananas.  I hit the wrong touch-screen button, and there's simply no explaining that to the machine...

29.  Wormholes.  The only way back, for [M] and me.  We will never give up our search.  We know you're here, somewhere, you portal through space and time...

Finally...

30.  Finishing.  I do it so rarely.  I start and I start and I start again, but to finish... What a rush that must be.  I'm thankful, dear reader(s), for the finishing of this year's thankfulness list.  Oh, and for this:

(it's technically not at all finished, but maybe - someday...)

So.  There it is.  For another year, at least.  I've got more.  Come with me...

This one, as they so often do, comes as an admittedly jury-rigged response to the Studio 30-Plus writing prompt.  This prompt, "Something Was Missing," belongs to the gifted Nonamedufus, and his post Never Had A Chance.  Check him out.  He may not have a name, but he writes.  Fun ensues.

Naked Lemons

For decades, they haunted the bottom drawer of our refrigerator.  I knew what they were - they were naked lemons - but it took a while for me to figure out why they were.

My parents were martini drinkers.  Mom still is, and I'm sure if my father were still here, he'd partake, as well.  Early on, I think there were olives involved, but what I remember is the lemons, surgically stripped of their skins and a thousand miles removed from the kiss of the sun.

I know it's the "wrong" tool for the job, but I love that knife.

I knew how to order a proper martini long before I was old enough to legally drink one.  Bombay, straight-up, twist, dry and very cold.

I was still mucking about with my go-to spirit (rum) through my dad's final years, and - foolishly - I didn't take the time to learn his art.  

But my brother did.

I've learned to love this cocktail - that first ultra-cold, lemon-infused sip is pure magic - and I now possess a great set of instructions for its assembly.  I can finally make a superb martini on my own - although not with the consistency of quality that my brother possesses.  

Practice makes perfect, though.  Right?

[Failure to do justice to this masterpiece]

Prompted once again by my friends at Studio 30 Plus - this time the challenge was to keep it short and include the phrase "kiss of the sun."  This prompt comes to us from the gifted author and blogger K.G. Waite and her post Truths Untrue.  You know what to do - drop by her bloggy place and say hello!

[Maris] And Joe Get It All Wrong

Today, [Maris] and I fell in love.  No, not with each other.  We've done that so many times, we've lost count.  This time, we fell for another man and his wife.  Well, they're not actually married, but they are very committed to pretending that they are.  Okay, so they're not a couple at all.  They're coworkers.  But so were we, once.  

Now, before those swinger-y ideas take root in your head, which will make them much more difficult to get rid of, I must tell you that it's not like that.  The amazing pair of people we met today both passed away many years ago.  Also, to be fair, they were fictional characters, albeit expertly-written and brilliantly portrayed.  But we couldn't help feeling that instant connection, that recognition in another of a part missing from ourselves.

The details of the encounter itself don't warrant much space, here - if for no other reason than that you will undoubtedly think this a mere movie review, and wander off.  We watched the 78-year old movie "The Thin Man," starring William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles.  He's a retired private detective; she's independently wealthy, and at least one of them (usually both) has a drink in hand from the first frame of the picture to the last.  We like that, but what we truly adore is their banter.  It's fast, it's wry and it's sharp as a knife.  

We had heard about this movie series, and about these characters, for years, and knew we would probably like them.  There's more to it than that.  We watch movies a lot, and we fall very easily for them and their stars.  This one resulted in a 2nd-degree epiphany for both of us.  

We've spent the past fifteen years identifying with the wrong fictional characters!

Okay, I don't think we were cognizant of it the whole time, but for many years we've seen ourselves as Statler and Waldorf, the grumpy, funny and ever-critical Muppets who sat in the balcony, heckling the cast and tearing the show to shreds on a weekly basis - and cracking themselves up.  When [Maris] and I are together, we do the same thing - probably to an unhealthy extent - ALL THE TIME.  We are relentless in our editorializing, contradiction, criticism and insults of everyone and everything we see and hear on television, and this amuses us to no end.  Our respect for movies is a bit better, but we often find ourselves giving perfectly fine films the old MST3K treatment.  The only real difference between our heckling of the world and that of Statler and Waldorf is that they're a little less mean.

We weren't completely wrong; we are very similar to those Muppets.  But meeting Nick and Nora has shown us a pair of actual humans - a married couple - who take that same vibe and make it fun.  It's less complaint-oriented.  It's much faster.  It's still critical, but the pokes are more at each other, rather than the world around them.  They also add alcohol to the mix, and the way they talk about that aspect of their lives is the stuff of genius.  I won't get into specific quotes - I honestly don't know how I'd choose - but their rapid-fire conversations, which probably seem unrealistically quick and clever to a lot of people, feel absolutely natural to [Maris] and me.  Plus, if you listen closely, there's a warmth in their sarcastic exchanges, something that's missing from Statler and Waldorf's barbs.

So we have new best friends.  They are us.  Quicker, certainly, but us nonetheless.  We just need to work a bit on our speed.  And maybe our warmth - at least when we're within earshot of our dreaded others.