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For all the obvious and correct reasons, Thanksgiving should be about grease-spattered gluttony and the picked-clean carcasses of large, roasted birds, and also getting ludicrously drunk.
Thanksgiving — properly observed — is about family and friends and the titular appreciation for All the Good Things we are blessed with. (If you wanna throw some beer and turkey in there, why, that’s okay, too.)
I have myriad wonderful memories of the holiday, but in the context of this blog, I’d like to share a recollection of Thanksgiving, 1976, and a very cool experience with the Irish blues-rock guitarist Rory Gallagher.
I’ve written many times about Gallagher — one of the greatest guitarists ever and, if you don’t know of him or his catalog, you can’t really present yourself as someone who knows and appreciates music. That’s just the truth.
Anyhoo, here’s a link to an article about my T-giving with Rory. It was originally published in the Dallas Observer.
Meanwhile, have the Best Thanksgiving Ever.
It’s as though the collective skull of America just cracked open and, instead of gray matter leaking out, a mass of cockroaches, centipedes and assorted vermin crawled out and are swarming the streets.