now i lay me down to eat
As you gently lower your head into a pile of mashed potatoes this Thanksgiving (as I assume all people do), I hope you will at least take a few seconds and be grateful for the good things in your life, at least until the butter melts. Also remember that Thanksgiving is one of the few days – along with Patriot Day – that the placing of one’s face in mashed potatoes is considered a show of both solemn respect and hunger for mashed potatoes. But even though I have a strong reputation as a bitter little troll, as malevolent as I am fearful, I certainly won’t be left out of the tuber-based festivities. Yes, despite my policy on gratitude, I have many things to be thankful for.

So to honor the great pilgrim gods to whom many heathen turkeys are sacrificed annually, I would like to share with you my gratefulness in a specific format of no more than 900 words. I suggest you do the same, lest you want the pilgrim gods to descend from Asgard and use their magic buckles to steal your souls and unused VCRs. But don’t expect us to publish it.

Reason to be thankful #1: I haven’t died horribly in a fire. Because I don’t actively go around and intentionally avoid dying horribly in a fire, I must be pretty lucky to be alive right now. And it is a magnificently terrible way to die, though not just because of the pain. You see, my intended demise involves me, a speeding train, and just enough time before the explosion to vocally curse all those who wronged me. Could this possibly happen if my house burns down while I sleep? Of course not. Even being awake and burning alive offers very little in the “self-control” department. How can someone be expected to deliver a powerful and moving death monologue while most of their face melts off? It nearly borders on comedic.

Reason to be thankful #2: Complete global nuclear war has not started. I have to note that it hasn’t started as of this writing. With the inevitable delays between writing and publishing, I could end up looking like a total ass if North Korea and Iran decided to lob a few our way in the interim. That is, if The Walruss still exists at that point in time. But I can guarantee you that those sissies at The Vindicator will be high-tailing it to Canada – or even worse, The Netherlands – at the first sign of trouble. This scenario isn’t an entirely absurd idea; other nuclear-armed countries are not nearly as stable as our own. I mean, just look at the haircuts on those guys in the Pentagon! Just look at them! And you have to remember that Kim Jong-Il’s war room meetings on nuclear war consist only of Looney Tunes shorts being screened. It is in this context and this context alone that “rabbit season” equals nuclear holocaust.

Reason to be thankful #3: Beetle Bailey continues to exist. On the rare chances I actually have to talk to an old person, sometimes I find it impossible to avoid using a modern word – like “e-mail” – which usually confuses them into submission and sometimes war flashbacks. Comics like Beetle Bailey (along with Hi and Lois and the rest of the “drawn by octogenarians” collective) allow me to step into the world of “what was funny in 1950,” helping me communicate with the elderly. Whether it’s making fun of women for their driving ability, making fun of women for their nagging ability, or making fun or women for their inability to give me a son, Beetle Bailey covers all of the humorous topic bases – without using the mild profanity of a certain Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C. Just make sure you don’t ask why it’s mandatory for all black characters to exclusively stay in the back of panels.

Reason to be thankful #4: Gravity has remained consistent. I don’t know about you, but the placement of objects in my room is entirely dependent on the fact that gravity will continue to operate as it always has. Since this is the 24th year of my life where gravity has not yet changed, I think it may be time to take down all the mattresses I have installed in the ceiling. On second thought, I’ll wait until Christmas.

Reason to be thankful #5: Free press is alive and well. This is not self-congratulatory, even though the fabulous crown I have fashioned from discarded Burger King crowns and rhinestones was made for this fifth reason. You see, since The Walruss is not owned by large, evil corporations and is also not under the heels of puritan advertisers, my lies and ideas I thought of on the toilet are printed on these very pages twice a month. Can you imagine the amount of buckling I’d have to do in order to fit my content into the pages of a mainstream rag? I can see it now: “Bob Mackey Presents: The Lighter Side of Kittens.”

Great, I just gave away my submission piece for Reader’s Digest.