Furman Bishers's 90th birthday thanksgiving

Oh how I love these. To think Furman Bisher is 90. I use to read this every thanksgiving morning in McDonough, Georgia when I would visit my parents.

A day to gorge on good feelings

By Furman Bisher

For the Journal-Constitution

Thursday, November 27, 2008

There’s nothing like a holiday, and Thanksgiving is extra special, for it’s one that our own country invented. And not only that, but instead of one day, with Thanksgiving we get four. We stuff ourselves on Thursday, then we have three days to work it off.

It can be traced back to the pilgrims and their good friends, the Indians, but nothing official was done about it until Abe Lincoln’s presidency.
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In time, the date was jostled around by one president or another, but the heartiness has never diminished. It has come to represent a feasting time. No gifts, no denominational affiliation, no political connection; generally speaking, a day of appreciation for the good life.

In my case, this unofficial expression of thankfulness relates to the birth of my first son. Roger would be 53 now, and though I have lost him, the joy of having him lingers on. He is forever in my heart.

What began as an annual remembrance turned into an occasional touch of humor and a jab at somebody or something, so here we go again:

> I’m thankful I haven’t had to park my car on the front lawn with a “for sale” sign on it —-yet.

> I’m thankful for the cellphone, which I’d sworn I’d never have.

> I’m thankful for the player who makes a tackle and doesn’t act as if he has never made one before.

> I’m thankful for “Sounds of Faith,” the Sunday morning program that the former WPCH station had to bring back by popular demand.

> I’m thankful when the bank statement comes in and I’ve made another mistake —- in my favor.

> I’m thankful when the moon breaks through the night clouds like a great big pumpkin.

> I’m thankful I made it to 90, but I hadn’t planned on looking 90.

> I’m thankful aging doesn’t look nearly as bad now as it did when I was 18.

> I’m thankful for the first sip of a cold beer —- about once a month.

> I’m thankful for the days the Dow Jones goes up, even if my account doesn’t.

> I’m thankful I got to know Atlanta the way it used to be.

> I’d be thankful if I could compose an instant answer to the guy in the 18-wheeler up ahead with the sign “How’s My Driving” on the back.

> I’m thankful I never developed a taste for chicken wings.

> I’m thankful for third-and-1, and second-and-1, short-yardage stuff.

So we close again on another Thanksgiving Day, with best wishes for much happiness. And by the way, have you noticed how many more friends and passersby are saying “Happy Thanksgiving” this year? Somehow, I don’t recall that ever having been as much a seasonal greeting before. Maybe it’s the times, good nature or the economy. Cheaper to say “Happy Thanksgiving” than mail a card.

furman@ajc.com