Dont Mince Words

2009 Thanksgiving

I had another one of those “oh fuck I do live in California” moments this week when I realized that 72 percent of my Thanksgiving guests were vegetarian or vegan. It really called into question if I had to buy a turkey or if I could get away with making turkey burgers.

I haven’t made the full switch yet, and I still enjoy fish, but I knew I’d have to cook and carve the turkey and get the carcass out of the house before the V’s arrived so as not to offend. They aren’t the wishbone snapping types. Dinner went off with out a problem, but the fun came afterwards.

The conversation reverted to vegetarian food: how to make a good tofu scramble, wheat-free breads, tempeh, and my soy chorizo. I watched my meat-eating Texan friend as we yammered on and I could tell he was ready to blow. This I knew because he arrived first and said something to the effect of, “there’s no reason to be a vegetarian except for religious purposes.” I mentioned cruelty in the food industry. He is in the “meat is tasty” camp. Needless to say, he was one of the first to finish up and leave, but not before he confirmed that vegan pumpkin pie was not as good without butter.

We enjoyed our vegetables and odd conversations without the presence of our own family members. That’s probably why we had a good time, just like the original settlers did minus the tofurky roast.

I’m going to pitch a new TV show to the networks.  “Are you better at Wii than a 7 year-old” will feature gaming unsaavy adults playing Wii against their younger relatives.  I discovered during Easter, in my attempt to be hip with the nephews, I need to upgrade my Ms. Pacman-era gaming skills.

While everyone in the house was sick, the youngest nephew who is 7  took it upon himself to keep us entertained by “teaching” me some of his Wii games.  He enjoyed talking a lot and telling tips and tricks, but leaving out a few details to ensure he’d win every game.  Whatever.  I get it.  He gets crushed by his older brother so this was the first time he had an equal-skilled opponent.

After my day-long tutorial, my brother came downstairs laughing.  Apparently, I was in the kid’s evening prayers.  “And thank you for bringing me Aunt Marna so that I had someone to play with whose butt I could whip.”

Just you wait kid.  I vow never to be in 12th place again in Super Mario Cart.  I’m going to find someone to play with here so I can start my driver’s ed.

It’s official. Tex is my longest running relationship since arriving in LA. He’s emotionally available, he’s big, he doesn’t flake on me, and me makes me smile every day.

We’ve been together a little more than a year and April Fool’s Day is his designated 11th birthday since it’s easy to remember and it reminds me how foolish I thought I was for adopting an old dog. But Tex is a combination of Jeff Lebowski and Flounder – there’s a casual, cool, perpetual goofiness about him that makes him my one true love.

While my favorite, four-lettered word is N-E-X-T, Tex’ word of choice is W-A-L-K. But sometimes he can’t walk. After some severe bouts of lameness, I discovered that Tex had an advanced case of hip dysplasia as well as some lower back issues. Now doggie meds keep the inflammation down in addition to glucosimine and Omega-3 infused food. He doesn’t hike as much. In fact, he now gets more pleasure walking to Whole Foods so he can be the exit greeter while I’m inside shopping.

Last weekend a woman commented at a coffee shop that he was an “obvious old soul.” I don’t know about that new age hippie bullshit. I do know he’s old and kind of looks like Yoda. And he is wise. He’s the dog everyone wants to pet. Small kids want to hug him. He’s happy to be alive. I’m glad I fostered/adopted him. It’s a pleasure to keep him comfortable in his senior years.

The dude abides. Happy birthday man.