I've been searching for the dolphins in the sea, and sometimes I wonder do you ever think of me

The long weekend is almost over. I hardly knew ye'. Ah, but time marches on and so do we  along with it. To that end, let's kick this post into gear. First, we cover Thanksgiving, perhaps the only holiday no one can find fault with. Mine was a fine one, despite the lousy commute to my parent's house. It took me over an hour to get there; it should have taken a little over a half hour. The traffic I faced, which I believe had more to do with shitty drivers and their shitty driving choices  than overcrowding, put me in a foul mood. I frothed, I entertained visions of thinning out the herd with Old Testament style vengeance, and, throughout this fever, I found myself laughing bitterly over how off the mark I was from embracing the spirit of Thanksgiving. Ah, the absurdity! When I finally arrived at my parent's house, most of my composure had returned, but I was still a bit frazzled and probably kind of a dick for a short spell. It happens.

My intention had been to arrive early so I could transfer my belongings from the Camry to the Forester, which I would be driving home. Even Spira, who I figured would be delayed by the same traffic, beat me; she had the foresight to avoid 93. Seeing her and Missy D, my sister and her family, my grandmother, and my parents warmed my heart and the red haze of stress and tension dissipated beyond my perception.

We had a nice meal and, afterward, my nieces played us some songs on the piano. Afterward, I stepped outside and put my belongings from the old car into the new one. I had driven it only once before, but only up and down the street. It had been years since I had driven a standard, but it seemed to come back to me. The test was going to be the ride home which was going to be at night and would combine back road, highway, and city driving. And I was going to have a passenger: my grandmother, who is in her mid-nineties. I hoped the ride would be a smooth one for both us.

And it was. Mostly. At first, it was a little dicey trying to shift and have a conversation with my grandmother, which under ordinary circumstances is not an easy feat. "I AGREE. I THINK THIS CAR WILL BE GREAT IN THE SNOW."

"The what, dear?"

"THE SNOW. I SAID I AGREE WITH YOU THAT THE CAR WILL BE GREAT IN THE SNOW."

"What is great not to know?"

"THE SNOW, I SAID. THE CAR WILL BE GREAT IN THE SNOW. THE SNOW!"

That type of thing happened early on; the rest of the trip was fine. At one point, Nana put a hand on my arm and said, "You're doing great, Kevin. The car hasn't bucked once." She was correct and I felt pretty good about that. It would have been kind of shitty being the cause of my grandmother getting whiplash or worse.

I love the car. I keep thinking of reasons to drive it. I discovered that, while it's an occasional hassle, I missed using a stick shift.  More hands on. I feel so much gratitude towards my parent's, who found the car (my mother spotted it in the parking lot of the gas station they frequent) and brokered the transaction. They made the experience of buying a car so much easier than it could have been. Whenever I thanked my dad for all the assistance, he would just shrug it off and say "Well, we've got a lot more free time on our hands now that we're retired and we don't mind taking care of some things you'd have to leave work to do." Still, they didn't have to help at all, no matter how much free time they had. Driving the car home on Thanksgiving wasn't lost on me. I have much to be thankful for.

Have you ever felt swift and sudden ecstasy, the sort that is so overwhelming you can barely stay conscious? Well, that's what I felt when I heard Les Stroud, aka Survivorman, on Joe Rogan's podcast talking about his two encounters with Bigfoot. That was ecstatic enough, but when he stated that there is a Survivorman: Bigfoot show in the works, I was shot through the cosmos, losing all sense of my former self. Only ecstasy, pure, unfiltered ecstasy. How I made it back, I have no inkling. Anyway, I'm a tad pleased at the news.

Been reading from The Shining a lot. I sometimes forget how masterful a storyteller King is. He's had his off moments, but in this book he really brings his A game. And, in case you're wondering, I have been sleeping with the lights on. Just to be safe.

My listening habits of late have comprised an odd pairing: Emerson, Lake, and Palmer and Grizzly Bear. As concerns the former, it's been  Brain Salad Surgery I've focused on and concerning the latter, it's mostly been Yellow House, their second album. I've wondered how this development has affected my songwriting. I'm not sure that is has, but you never know.

Back to work tomorrow. I'll begin my day in Cambridge and possibly Boston, which is fine with me. Makes the day go by quicker.

Alright, pups, I'm off to do other things. I'll leave you with a pic of me scratching my dear girl's head.