Snow, Turkey, Football, Photos

As previously mentioned, I headed to Maine for Thanksgiving. My parents retired a few years ago and spend most of their time in the Vacation State. The place is very much in the boonies of Maine (i.e. not Portland), but over two decades or so, the community has been slowly converting from antiques and mom-and-pops to a more modern economy. I noticed a Rite-Aid on the way up, which used to be some generic drug store. Maybe progress isn't the best thing for rural communities, but it was nice to order some decent Chinese food the night before Thanksgiving.

I flew into Boston and drove a rental up I-95. It started snowing not long after I arrived, and though there wasn't very much of it, the news reported all kinds of spin outs along the road. It continued to snow on Thanksgiving, and despite my pleas, my dad insisted on driving out to pick up some other family members a few streets over. His method of driving in the snow consists of going way too fast, easing off the gas and letting the car glide towards the intersection, then jamming on the anti-lock brakes until they stop the car. He turns slowly until he hits the next straightaway, then hits the gas again. As a result, all of the passengers pray that there are no cars coming through the intersection, because the car almost never stops where it should.

The feast was grand in both scope and stature. The bird was cooked perfectly, vegetables plentiful, cranberry sauce homemade - not in the shape of a corrugated tin can. As usual, my dad and I had a competition to see who could eat more... and as is becoming more common, I came out way ahead. The Falcons - Lions game was over by the time dinner started, but for some reason the Dallas - Denver game was nowhere to be found when the plates were cleared. It then became photo hour.

The family was very eager to see the photos I'd collected from all over Asia. Last year I conveniently forgot all of them, and I'd considered blaming the airline for lost luggage this year, but in the end I decided to suck it up and bring them. Again, it's not that I can't fake this stuff, and, oddly enough, it's not because I don't like lying to my family... it's because I hate the dog-and-pony show. The old adage that a picture is worth a thousand words holds true in the case of my family... every picture requires at least a thousand words to go with it, as question after question needs to be answered.

"How big is that?"
"Do they let you climb on it?"
"Why is it rude to point your feet at Thais?"

Et cetera. I realize they are very curious about this sort of thing, and they don't see me very often, but it's a bit tedious. Luckily my nephews decided that some wrestling was in order, so half of the photo viewing was done while I was grappling with kindergarteners, thus keeping the comments brief.

I got home just in time to watch the end of the Seahawks game... during which the Giants kicker missed three game-winning field goals. I'm starting to think that maybe this is the year that all of the Seahawks' bad luck comes to an end. They were the trendy Super Bowl pick the last couple of years, but this year, they've managed to stay under the radar. This is good.

Tuesday night I'm having dinner with Sandra. I'm still trying to figure that girl out. Earlier last week she wigged out because I called her "Sandy". Apparently that's just a no-no. Then she wanted me to come to Thanksgiving with her family, even though we've only been dating for a few weeks and she already knew about the plans I'd made to be with my family. This sounds awful, but I think I'm going to call up her sister and see if I can't get any details about what went on.