A Holiday Worth Giving Thanks For

   Thanksgiving Day.

   It's my third one on my own, and it's been easily the best of the lot. Holidays and I sometimes don't mix well. Two years ago, I was still getting my footing after Roxanne's death. Last Thanksgiving was just depressing. So this year, I decided that instead of fighting the day, I would make it mine.

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Isn't that facial expression indescribeable? !!! My BFF Cathy wondering if I will poison anyone by throwing together a Thanksgiving meal.

   It was an uncertain day in some ways. My best friend Cathy and her husband Lew, knowing I sometimes feel like an odd sock on holidays, made sure I knew that I would be welcome with them. Their family always does it up right on Thanksgiving. Cathy had an early work day, but would be off in plenty of time to join in the celebration.

   Still, I declined their offer to let me tag along to their family get-together. It was an incredible invitation, and a testament to what special friends Cathy and Lew are, but theirs is a family gathering, and pretty crowded, too. Plus, I was scheduled to be on the air Thanksgiving evening. Nothing like getting stuffed, then have to get up and go to work.

Here are the products of my culinary labor. When motivated, I can be productive.

   Truth be told, it was not a totally happy Thanksgiving. I have a friend who's been going through the wringer lately, and is wrapped in misery. I've been there myself, much too often over the years. Closer to home, there's some teenage drama with relatives, so I'm worried. But worry doesn't help. There's not much I can do about either sitation. Trying to take a cue from Cathy, and not fixate on things I can't change, I did my best to let those concerns alone. This is a holiday, after all.

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   So, on with the holiday! This is all new to me, so I opted for the path of least resistance. I took the traditional route: Food, good food. I'll brag for a moment. I'm actually a pretty good cook. As I never cared for turkey, I made a chuck roast with corn and rice. Nothing fancy, but warm, happy and filling, much like I strive to be in my new life.

My friend Kristi baked a pumpkin pie. There was so much left over! (Yeah, right.)

   As I said earlier, I worked on Thanksgiving -- that's a fact of life in broadcasting -- so I shared my Thanksgiving meal with some of my holiday shift co-workers, and with my friend Kristi, another member of the "gotta-work-on-Thanksgiving" society. We have shared a running joke for several years about spending Thanksgiving together, so it was fitting that we finally go to do it.

   Kristi brought a pumpkin pie, fresh from her oven, for us to share. I liked Kristi a lot even before she brought me pie. Now I like her even more. Pie will do that to a fellow.

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   Today's lesson? Call it reader's choice: You get to pick. Either I was damned lucky, or things in LIFE 4.0 are getting easier with time.

Maybe both things are true. I do know that I am damned lucky. And I'm pretty certain I'm learning not to let distractions and misfortune throw me off my stride. Today, to quote "The Quiet Man," was a fine, soft day. It was a day filled with camaraderie, accomplishment, caring gestures, homemade pleasures, and long-ago promises finally fulfilled. It's a day that was much needed, and for that, I give thanks.

StevenK

So, I met this girl...

So, I met this girl...

That's all there is to the story right now. It could be that this is all there ever will be. We're friends. She says so. Just friends. Oy, have I heard that one before! So why even mention it?

Why? Because of that chance. Because of the possibility, the uncertainty beyond the horizon. And because of the hope that as that horizon comes into focus, I'll get a glimpse of a beacon I've longed to see. In my heart of hearts (Oh, my God I'm scared to even say this...here goes) In my heart of hearts I hope the impending dawn signals an important arrival.

Maybe this is my day of awakening. Ready or not, right or wrong, I am brave enough to say it.

I want more.

Just friends ain't bad, though. With friendship comes trust, familiarity and comfort. If that's all this ever is, it's still a happy place to be. But it does hurt just a tad. At least I've been here before. This may sound masochistic, but it's comforting to know I still have the capacity to bleed, even jumping decades at a stretch. Self-pity is rich and juicy. You can feed on it for years.

---

Whenever I need a reality check, I can count on my best friend Cathy. Aside from Roxanne's, I trust her opinion more than anyone I've ever known. Cathy's the kind of friend who knows when I'm off my game. I didn't even have to ask; she took me by the hand, and said "What's wrong?" So I made the first of what may be many mistakes in this new chapter of LIFE 4.0. I told her what was wrong.

I told her I might be in free fall for a girl I'd met. A girl who wants to be just friends. She likes having friends. I make her smile. I love her smile. She laughs because I'm funny. I love her laugh. She also laughs when I'm serious, because she doesn't realize I'm serious. So she laughs. Because we're friends. Just friends. Through the laughter I remember echoes of my pre-Roxanne life, when I heard "we're friends" so many times that I should have filed for the damn copyright on the phrase. Did I mention that I love her laugh?

In the Dictionary Of Real Life, there are several definitions for the phrase "fucking up." One of the most prominent is "pouring your heart out to a woman about another woman."

I am nothing if not grateful. I even Tweeted

to show proper love to my BFF. Thank you, Cathy.

I told Cathy everything. Dreams, fascination, infatuation, the thousand reasons it could never work, the thousand ways it might succeed. I tried to vocalize what was in my heart. Seven beers later, (me, not her) Cathy told me to proceed with caution. I told her WAY more than I should have. I know this to be true, because farther on in the Dictionary Of Real Life is the phrase "proceed with caution," which is defined as "you're a big jackass who's going to do what you want anyway, so I might as well give you my blessing, then wait to have your back if you fuck everything up."

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In the short time since we met we have become tremendous friends. I may be doing something really stupid by risking this friendship to see if there's a chance of having something more. I do know that it's one of the bravest things I've ever done. I hope, having now spoken of chances, truth, pain, and the thought of there being something more, that I don't lose her friendship.

How is it so far? Nice, really nice, but noncombustive. No sparks flew when we met. It was pleasant, comfortable, wonderful, much like we had each expected. Problem is I'm still cautious. No. Might as well be brutally honest, and call it what it is: I'm just plain chickenshit. The thought of taking those first steps stops me cold in my tracks.

I just caught sight of the clock, and realized I've been up all night writing and rewriting and thinking and cursing and crying. 9:10 AM, yep, the one after 9:09. The Beatles speak to me again as they have since I first heard "Rain." Ten minutes after nine. Long past bedtime for a night shifter. Fuck all, I don't know how to write this post. I've been up all night trying different angles and they all suck. It's getting the better of me.

At the moment, my concentration is fixed on eliminating the last swallows of Wild Turkey in what used to be a generous bottle. I don't even drink very often. I don't think I could get used to it. I hope I don't have occassion to find out. The caution flag is flying, and good thing, too, because my heart is flying around the oval in a way it hasn't since Roxanne's death. After escaping the edge, I fear I'm heading back at breakneck speed. Forgive me if I sound like Trent Reznor, via Johnny Cash, but I recognize the old familiar pain. I know it well. I'm even glad to feel it.

If I can't even blog about something hypothetical, how can I live it in reality? I don't even know if it's good for me to try to live it out. But I know one thing, one incontrovertible fact which trumps all else.

I want more.

Today's Lesson ? You tell me. It's obvious that I ain't got a fucking clue. I know only the chance I'm about to take, and the risk which lies ahead. This is a friendship that I value highly; I have few of those. I don't want to trash it by wanting more. I can welcome the old familiar pain, but I fear the virgin pain of losing a beautiful and dear friendship.

There's a long-forgotten symmetry to this whole scene, I realize as I'm struck by a revelation. It's been years, dozens of years since I sat up all night thinking about a woman. Technically, I'm focusing on the blogging problem, not the woman. But it's been a long time since I sat up all night trying to focus on anything other than the hole in my heart. For now, that's close enough to make me smile a terrified smile. Did I mention I love her smile?

StevenK