This morning my friend Stephany Aulenback bemoaned the “vast lonely wasteland” that is the Internet during American Thanksgiving.
“During these four or five days,” she said, “many people don’t update their sites, they don’t post. There’s no one to be found anywhere. It feels wrong.”
No doubt Ms. Aulenback is not alone in feeling this way, so I’ve asked her to post intermittently on this site through next Monday.
Lest you doubt her credentials, be aware that she’s previously taken to blogging with a panache that humbles the lesser minds here at MaudNewton.com. And now seems like a good time to mention that, beginning on January 16 of next year, she will take over posting duties every Friday.
I get all gushy when I talk about Steph, so I’ll just direct you again to some of her work: “Small,” “Pickup Lines that Went Unnoticed” (with Ed Page), and “How These Stories End.”
Oh, and here’s one further thought on the impending holiday. Joseph Finn of In Apprehension wrote to agree in part with Donald Barthelme’s thoughts (posted here Monday) about, in Mr. Finn’s words, “the general crappiness of Thanksgiving.” Finn adds this clarification:
I’d be remiss if I failed to note that it is the best holiday in one sense:
Yea, but it is a cornucopia of bounty for the sports fans, often keeping families from going after each other once they’ve gone through a couple of bottles of wine. You have football games to sedate before the large meal, and football/basketball after the meal to lull you to sleep until you are dragged out the door by your spouse, who makes noses under her breath about never “spending another bloody minute with that vicious little shit.” Then there’s the fun ride home as you try to determine which member of your family she considers the little shit, and whether or not you should bring it up.
Those last two sentences capture the spirit of the holiday better than any others I’ve seen this year. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a flask to fill and a train to catch.