Lord Have Merci

Some Serene Thoughts to Digest in Case the L-Tryptophan Doesn't Put You to Sleep Quickly Enough Later Today

IT'S CUSTOMARY TODAY to reflect on your good fortunes and express gratitude that, I dunno, you don't live in a ditch or something. I did that a couple of years ago and got accused by my commenters -- okay, by my family -- of blogging while drunk. So I thought I'd take a different tack in 2005 and offer some less obvious things for which I'm grateful. In no particular order, then, this year I'm thankful that:

• The Eagles are channeling the Rich Kotite Era. Because, you know, we don't have enough self-loathing here in the Delaware Valley.
• Philadelphia hasn't had a championship since 1983, when I was in junior high. Getting time off from work to attend a parade would be, like, suuuuuch a huge hassle.
• We have our hardworking and dedicated local broadcast journalists to pick up the slack left by the 100 departed Inquirer and Daily News newsroom staffers.
• Drew Rosenhaus (Worst. Agent. Ever.) can be counted on to make a horse's ass of himself on practically a daily basis. Without his startlingly inept handling of client Terrell Owens, people around the country might think that Philadelphians were being too hard on T.O.
• The Flyers have been shaky of late. Since they typically end their regular season with 100 points and follow it up with a clumsy first-round playoff cashiering, maybe a merely good season instead of a great one will augur a more successful postseason.
• The Weavers have made it this far in The Amazing Race: Family Edition. The rampant hypocrisy of the Christian right deserves more such exposure, frankly.
• No one pays me to write this stuff. Man, what a hardship that would be ... getting paid to write about TV and sports and women and beer ... how the hell does Simmons handle the pressure? Yeah, I'm really glad I do this for free. Sure. It's, um, great.

Happy Thanksgiving.