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Jeff Hurt, Editor
The Double Mountain Chronicle’s publisher asked me to write an editorial for this week’s Thanksgiving edition, and I found myself typing, then deleting, then typing something new, only to discard what I had written, often several paragraphs of work. It seemed as though the craft I enjoy had become laborious and drafting words of inspiration to fill the empty canvas of my page was escaping me.
I set out to write about how I was thankful for this or that, like living in a place where government functions a little better, where communities pull together, or the fulfillment of being a provider of clear, factual information at a time when such things are in short supply. Yet as I wrote them, the words felt hollow and disingenuous.
Yet between my creations and deletions, my frustration and aggravation, I was continuously interrupted throughout the day by my family’s ongoing group text messaging. It was hilarious. Then I realized: It was they that I was truly thankful.
My wife had this great idea a while back to include us all in a group chat called the “Chaos Crew.” It’s a fitting name for the group given the complexities of our large, chaotic family.
It consists of my wife and me, our eldest daughter and her husband, my son, the next two daughters — who turn 20 next month — and the two teenage girls, who are, well, teenagers. We recently included one of the older daughter’s boyfriend since it seems like the girls are going to allow him to stick around for a while. Close-knit female siblings are packhunters and will cut a weak male from the heard, chew and spit without the slightest twinge of remorse.
With the addition of another male to the group, it gives us guys a fourto-seven ratio. Not too shabby, and for a man who has spent years writing about being the only male in a house full of women, it is refreshing to have others around who view situations through a common perspective. It’s at least nice to have someone in the collective to be wrong alongside.
The most recent debate was over the family’s annual Christmas Eve gift; although, it was more a protest than a contest. One of our traditions is that on the night before Christmas, we open one gift. Inside: new pajamas. We put them on, take pictures, and it’s off to bed so Santa can get to work.
This year, my wife threw everyone a curve when she asked for input on color selection for the seasonal sleep attire. The biggest shock was to the fellas, as the individual modeling the knee-length nightgown was, in fact, a man.
The description was a long-sleeve, crewneck, loose, comfy, men’s sleepshirt. Which is a clever way of saying: It’s a nightgown... for dudes.
The immediate response was from my son-in-law. “I will not put that on,” he said. “If that is purchased, I will not.”
The women kept up the pressure, and the three other men in the group left him to fight this battle alone. Why did we not join this protest? Because we had already identified the brilliance of the garment, and soon, it struck him as well when he said: “At least I won’t have to take my pants off for my midnight tinkle.”
Forgiving the fact that a grown man used the word “tinkle,” it was clear to us all that the only thing more brilliant than a button on the fly of our pajama bottoms was, in fact, no bottoms at all. I plan to invest fully, buying a matching cap a kerchief for my wife... whatever the hell a kerchief is.
Truth is, I don’t know why nobody thought of it sooner. I see it as an allday garment. Wake up; put on pants; off you go. With the bottom part tucked into our trousers, it is also the solution to plumber’s crack, and in the evening, the pants come off, and you’re ready for bed.
This is the pinnacle of efficiency. As it is described as a long-sleeve crewneck, it’s like the mullet of the clothing world: All business up top, a party down below. It makes a heck of a lot more sense than cufflinks and cummerbunds. I mean, who was it that thought a six-inch-wide pleated belt was a good idea? I blame the British.
So as we have this chance to take a step back from the otherwise ridiculousness of 2020, I encourage you to remember that which we can each be thankful for. Moments.
No matter your personal situation, whatever trials of life you might be facing, upon reflection you can recall those moments of joyous perfection, even if they are nothing but the absurdity of a situation shared between those who know each other best. I hope you all have the opportunity to capture new moments this season, and to each of you, I wish a very happy Thanksgiving from all of us in: This World of Hurt.