In keeping with the “bird theme” that is so important to the whole ambiance of Turkey Day, I am reminded by my Mom’s admonishments throughout my formative years, to wit: “don’t count your chickens before they are hatched” … yup, Mom you are so right. I had already counted on and calculated how many miles I would walk over this long holiday weekend. In fact, I had set my sights on walking the equivalent of a 10K course today. This would entail a round trip from my house plus three, count ‘em three, trips around the perimeter path at Council Point Park. This hoped-for Thanksgiving morn trip would have boosted my mileage, bolstered my pride of my walking accomplishments in 2013 and made me worthy of my Thanksgiving dinner. Such grandiose dreams were dashed however. On Wednesday, the weather folks, on all the stations I scoped out, predicted “a chance of snow flurries in the afternoon” and I deemed it safe to forego setting the clock and just indulge in waking up on my own. So, this morning I was indeed alarmed to find out my body clock decided 8:59 a.m. was A-OK to awaken. Talk about supreme indulgence on my part. I woke up and then heard the kitchen clock’s Westminster chimes start playing for the top of the hour. I listened intently, while curled up in the confines of my cozy bed, and heard nine strikes! Say it isn’t so! I bounded out of bed, then clapped on the radio headphones to hear much chatter about slick roads and multiple accidents due to the snow and so I dashed to the window. Metro Airport reported only a half-inch of snow but it looked like a Winter wonderland out there. Well, melting was not going to happen any time soon. I made breakfast and listened to the WWJ news reports. There was much congestion due to the Turkey Trot, parade, early Lion’s tailgating and game arrivals, and, of course, the unexpected snow which gummed up the whole downtown Detroit works. So, I decided to just ease into my day and take a loss on the anticipated 6.2 miles lost today. It probably didn’t hurt to enjoy a brief respite from the long-haul walking I’ve been doing this past month (80 miles in November thus far) as I chug toward my ultimate goal.

My boss was up and at ‘em at the crack of dawn to participate in his 31st annual 10K Turkey Trot. He has been training all Fall by riding his bike, swimming twice a week and training indoors on a treadmill as well. I looked at online photos and it looks like the participants in the Turkey Trot and Stuffing Strut events had to run through the snow. I’m thinking that is for hardier souls than yours truly.

Despite the snow flurries swirling around the already-cold feet standing curbside to take in the America’s Thanksgiving Parade, it sounds like a good time was had by all. I only attended the arrival of Santa in Detroit one time – in 1974. Back then it was known as J.L. Hudson’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Our group of friends, the staff from the college newspaper “The Ford Estate”, decided to attend the parade and the Lion’s game. We met at one house very early and crammed all of us into a VW bus and off we went. Of course, I’m dating myself by even mentioning that old VW bus. It was not festooned with peace symbols, or the words “love” and peace” on the exterior, but it was rather rusted, missing hubcaps and very raggedy looking, but nonetheless got us to our destination. The many layers of warm woolens and even long johns I had donned that morning did not help in the least to protect against the cold, and soon I, like my newspaper cronies and most of the parade spectators, was stomping my feet in an effort to warm those tingling toes. When Santa arrived, we took off and it seemed to take forever to get out of Downtown proper and over to the old Tiger Stadium before game time. This was the very last Thanksgiving Day Lions game played at Tiger Stadium. We stopped and got coffee and some warm food then wove our way through the throng of fans and got settled into our seats just as the game was about to begin. Then it started to snow. Not those delightful, light and lacy little flakes that land on your nose and melt, or stay on your clothes a few minutes then blow away. No, these snowflakes collected on the cement at our feet, and started piling up on the armrests as well throughout the game. It never stopped snowing. We endured it for as long as we could, and finally, since the Lions were losing to the Broncos, we made a collective dash to depart before the rest of the crowd. We hit an open café half-way to Dearborn Heights for some more coffee and hot soup, not wanting to wreck our appetites for the feast that awaited at our respective homes later in the day. That was my first and last Thanksgiving Day parade and Detroit Lions game as well and it seemed my teeth chattered for hours, if not days, afterward.

I’m guessing by now you’ve already finished that second piece of pumpkin pie, and the table, which was groaning under the weight of all the holiday food, is now lightweight and near-bare, and it is you that is groaning and settling back in your chair, perhaps loosening your pants waistband a little. I hope your Thanksgiving Day spent with family and friends was joyous and your evening will be spent with those who make you happy, and not at the mall.