I know you’re asking for the hidden spiritual message in this, because that’s the essence of a sermonette. If you can’t figure it out, just eat your turkey and stuffing without adding bacon with it’s distinctive, delicious, smoky flavor…
Go ahead and spend the morning at the beach and work up an appetite.
I’m grateful for many things, not the least of which are the friendships that I’ve made over the years. Those friendships extend to many of you who read this blog, some of whom I know personally and others, simply from the force of personality that you project onto this strange medium where we meet to vent and discuss things that are important to us.
It’s a beautiful day in Southern California with highs in the mid-80’s at the beaches as they have been and will be through the long, chilled, winter months. While the East Coast is buried under an arctic blizzard, we will muddle along as best we can in the ‘endless summer’.
Which is to say, we won’t be traveling “over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house on a sleigh”. We drive over freeways in the concrete jungle, stacked up in traffic and wear short sleeved Hawaiian shirts and shorts with sandals on, while drinking a monster iced beverage with a healthy wedge of lemon. Thus, the Thanksgiving celebration falls short of the emotional and traditional ideal.
I don’t think that I’ve ever done a Thursday Sermonette before – – feels weird. This blog is getting just a bit too holy for even me, but I’m going to forge ahead with a message for you, your families and your neighbors. Ok, here goes:
Varied and diverse people will be coming to the manse today to eat a semi-traditional dinner. Along with the stuffed chicken, stuffed turkey and Honey Baked Ham, there will be green beans cooked with bacon. There will also be bacon in the stuffing and bacon bits on the salad. This will serve as fair notice to Muslims living near me that every scrap of food that I am serving for Thanksgiving is haram. Rooting around in my trash and dumpster diving will only lead them to grief when they find out that: