MY FIRST HOLIDAY REBELLION

When I was a child I was always relegated to the kid's table in thanksgiving. My aunt would throw a lavish dinner in her apartment on the beach. I remember that I was always given a table in the enclosed balcony. I did not mind sitting at that table because I had an amazing view of the beach. I did have a huge problem with the fact that my dinner consisted of pieces of the turkey that were picked out for me.

I remember clearly that I would get these slices of turkey, perfectly carved and fit for a cat. I always got more salad than I desired and a little skin. I assume that because I was a thin but long kid everyone thought I was not a big eater. I would examine this situation closely before making my move. I had to employ a daring approach that would require a little extra courage and guile. This was my year to make that statement and employ all the tactics I learned watching animated action cartoons.

I was seven years old and the year was 1986, I was going to make a move in order to make my presence felt. I decided to make a move on the fabled drumstick. I remember that particular drumstick was so big, at least to me. I was ready to show I was worthy of a move up from my table of solitude. I paced slowly as the adults spoke of subjects I knew nothing about.

I made a move behind a chair that was not pushed in all the way, and quickly turned and found myself under the table. I saw no legs so I made sure to make a strategic move toward the center, where the turkey sat. I moved to a chair near the turkey and finally made eye to, wait, I looked upon the turkey. I knew that the turkey would be a great challenge and I had to wing it, and quick. I grabbed the drumstick unnoticed and moved on.

When everyone looked at me I was saying a little prayer and toasting my sprite in triumph. Everyone looked in shock and awe, I amazed them all and the following year I would be a proud member of the adult table and allowed to choose my portion of the fabled gobbler. I would look at the kid's table in triumph and mentally hold it up as a sign of victory.

THE WISDOM OF AGE

I always had a problem relating to my grandfather. I never knew if he was angry, happy, or what his deal was. The fact is that as he got older he seemed to lose emotion, or the ability to express it. I would often times call him only to feel like I had pretty much wasted my time. As I grew and matured I realized that my grandfather was not really an asshole, he was just a wise old man. It's amazing how when you measure a wise ass to an old wise man there is a huge difference.

My grandfather had a quick sharp mind and was always on his toes. The one thing my grandfather held on to was his mind. I realized that, although he was never my idol, my grandfather knew that with the passage of time there was one weapon that could only improve, his mind. I understand that with age comes wisdom.

I rarely ever see an elderly individual that doesn't use his or her experience to a breathtaking advantage in life. We lose our legs, our muscular capacity, we even lose our looks, and yet it's impossible to lose our minds if we chose it as such. Yes we diminish capacity with age but the mind seems to get stronger in some respects. I will never really be a fan of my mom's father, my grandfather, but I will always respect him for the one lesson he taught me. With our age comes our greatest wisdom, should we accept it.