Keith Snyder
Door always open.

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I'd love to be funny and ironic, and then broadside you with a simple truth, but I don't have time.

So here's what I'm really thankful for.

  • Bladder works.

  • The first bite of an apple I took from the front desk at the Comfort Inn in Brossard and ate twenty minutes later on my bike while I looked at the St. Lawrence River. It was cold out.

  • Having come to understand why I do need to go meet family and friends at JFK or Newark, even if they're capable of making it from there to Queens without me.

  • Family and friends are flying in to JFK, not Newark.

  • Old cat still here and raucous. Likes to lie with paws on his people. Can open bedroom door.

  • Antegren in Phase III trials. Looks promising.

  • Harney & Sons' "Paris Blend," Hao Ya A, Earl Grey Supreme, Hot Cinnamon Spice, and Golden Monkey teas, and the memory of Hediard's caramel tea, not available in the US, which no other caramel tea has begun to live up to.

  • Snow coming shortly. Soon will use metal-stud bicycle tires on day job commute and get wacky double-takes from weather-fearing New Yorkers.

  • Markedly high-quality friends.

  • Inestimably high-quality wife. Quite a coup, as I'd have to be half as difficult just to get down to where I was more trouble than I was worth.

  • Love and the knowledge of why it goes on this list.

  • The unimaginably odd, one-time-only experience of having a human identity and walking around this world on legs.

But mostly the wife.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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