Dear Reader,

We are closing in on my favorite holiday of the year – Thanksgiving. I thought I might take a few minutes of your time to list some of the things that merit thanks this year.

As we have just (sort of) ended the 2022 political midterm election season, there are a few things for which I give thanks. First of all, I am thankful it is over. My big screen TV set is no longer flashing mega ugly commercials designed to hammer my brain into a lump of yesterday's cold oatmeal.

For Pete's sake, the first round of political commercials was interesting. The next thousand or so were just plain annoying. I wonder if there is a method to their madness. Maybe it is just a circular firing squad where fat cats with even fatter checkbooks try to buy influence by hiring a consulting class happy to use up their million-dollar allowances. If so, they bought lots of noise and confusion.

I am thankful that 100 million or so Americans voted.

The final verdict was not up to folks who measure, dissect, pull and push pollsters in an attempt to read the future. It was not up to the candidates and their myrmidons who want us to drink their questionable brand of toxic Kool-Aid.

For once, the mavens of the press were in lockstep. From Fox News, MSNBC, the Wall Street Journal, and the NY Times to the Portland Press Herald, we saw stories quoting experts predicting how a mighty red wave would sweep the Republicans into power, vanquishing the self-centered and elitist Democrats into the back benches.

That didn’t happen. Did it?

Now, some former cheerleaders have semi-switched sides – especially the minions who work for Rupert Murdock’s media mega universe.

Even some Republican stars seem to tip-toe away from the MAGA bandwagon. Is it a turning point? Is it?

No one challenged 45 after the Access Hollywood tapes caught him using high school locker room jargon to denigrate women. No one abandoned him when he was impeached after exhorting his followers to ransack the U.S. Capitol.

This time, he bludgeoned the GOP into nominating a bunch of questionable candidates, candidates who went down in flames, allowed Democrats to hold on to power, and defy historical trends.

Does this mean his influence is on the wane? Is it a case of the third time is the charm? Don’t ask me to predict the outcome as we tumble into the swirling currents of change.

In the coming months, we will witness an eternal generational power struggle as old bulls try to stand firm and hold off the young guns eager for power. The ultimate winner will be our old friend, Father Time.

For all his influence and billions, Old Murdock is 91 years old. The 45th president has celebrated 76 birthdays. The 46th has blown out the candles on 79 occasions. Speaker Nancy Pelosi, a Democrat who leads the House, is 78. Chuck Schumer, her Senate counterpart, is 71. Mitch McConnell, the GOP Senate leader, is 80.

All these folks, including me, will soon vanish from the stage.

And so will the rest of the generation that remembers the outrage Bob Dylan caused when he dared to walk on the Newport Folk Festival stage, backed by the powerhouse Butterfield Blues Band and fire up a Fender Telecaster. And so will the memories of the old Thistle Inn.

We remember these events as they helped to shape our lives.

We may not remember where we left the car keys or our password for this or that app. But images of the Hippies and Yippies, riots at the 1968 Democratic Convention, assassinations of JFK, RFK, MLK, and Vietnam’s TET offensive are still welded into our cerebral cortex.

To the young guns, these memories are historical footnotes. And that is the way it is supposed to be. Like King Arthur, King Henry VIII, George Washington, FDR, General Eisenhower and Elvis, we suffer from a fatal disease called TMB – too many birthdays.

The events of our world are disappearing, leaving us with a sense that we no longer can affect the course of history. Instead, those of us who can still stand often speak in quiet voices of the loss of family and friends while harboring secret worries about our personal plumbing.

Next week, we will gather with family to share my favorite meal of the year. We will hug each other, marvel at how we survived another year (and election season) in one piece, and listen to the joyous chatter of the young.

It is a magical time, a time to treasure, a time to give thanks for our blessings.

And to you, dear reader, I offer special thanks for taking the time to read these words.