Thanksgiving and Diversity

Attitudes surrounding the recent election make me aware of how fortunate I am.

With Thanksgiving fast approaching, my thoughts turned to the colorful diversity of my childhood.

During the 1940’s  the railroad brought   business owners of different cultures to our east Texas town .

A shopping trip to the town square with my grandmother was a treat. Shops owned by Jewish merchants offered all kinds of merchandise. They sold the cotton stockings my grandmother wore every day and the silk stockings she saved for  Sundays. While grandmother shopped, I sat on a stool and stuffed myself with the peanut butter logs offered by the shopkeeper. It was magic.

Our German pediatrician frightened me, intimidated my parents, but made house calls. He over-ruled some pretty awful home remedies and usually had candy in his bag.

One of my first grade classmates was Greek. I never thought about her ancestry, she was just “Helen” to me. Her parents owned the hotel next to the railroad terminal. A visit to her home revealed a large extended family, including her grandmother who hugged us both until we couldn’t breathe.

We purchased our groceries from a Lebanese family. Three generations of them worked in the store. My mother refused to serve meat that was not purchased from them. They always sent food when there was a death in our family and we sent flowers when there was a death in theirs. They were our friends.

The owner of the shoe store was Jewish. Had it not been for his  intervention, I would have been destined to wear the awful Jumping Jack shoes until puberty. Thanks to him, I graduated to Mary Janes.

We purchased my clothes from a Syrian owned store. The mother was the leader of my campfire group. Their daughter was my friend and partner in crime at our sleepovers. We were experts at toilet papering lawns. It was my good fortune that my mother trusted their judgment enough to let me shop on my own in their store.

Now I look back with gratitude at how much richer my life was because of these people.

I am thankful they were part of my life, an experience that in today’s political climate may no longer be possible.


Resident Jackass is in Need of a Quicker Picker Upper

Hey you; our resident jackass wearing your usual tacky tropical theme shirt with black knee high socks and disgusting topsiders.

Once again, you have left no doubt that you are an idiot.

We live in a condominium complex where everyone has huge bay windows that look out onto the green grass parkway. After all this time, did you believe no one would see you walking your miniature black poodle without a leash?

Your dog pooped smack dab in front of one of those bay windows, three feet away from the dispenser. You did not even pretend, as is your usual custom, to grab a doggie litter bag from the dispenser.

You looked to your right, then to your left to see if anyone witnessed the act. The only thing you picked up was your pace as you walked away from the “pile”.

Did you really believe that if the dog trailed behind you, no one would know you’re the owner? Your sense of entitlement is astounding.

I suppose it’s true you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.











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