Just Be Thankful, Asshole

Someone I know only in passing - a Facebook "friend," I've never met, and have barely every interacted with (such is how fast and loose we've become with the concept of friendship) just set his status as, "I have almost nothing in my life to be thankful for this year."

Excuse me, but SHUT THE FUCK UP.

This is not some guy living in the Middle East who doesn't know if his children's school will be bombed on any given day.  This isn't someone who lost his home to hurricane Sandy. This isn't someone dying of cancer.  And, let's be honest - most of those folks are probably thankful for every day their kids get home from school safely, that they got out of Sandy alive, and that cancer hasn't beaten them, yet. No, this is just a guy who seems somewhat disenchanted with life and can't see how fucking ridiculously blessed he is.

This morning I made breakfast for myself. The espresso pot I used was a gift from one dear friend. The coffee, itself, was a gift from another. The recipe for the dish I cooked came from an old love. The pan I cooked it in was a housewarming gift from my mother. The knife I used was given to me by my sister. My coffee mug? I've had it for over 20 yrs, having picked it up at a garage sale some 20+ years ago, on a sunny Saturday morning spent with one of my favorite people. My breakfast plate - turquoise Fiestaware from the 30s - was my grandmother's favorite plate. Even the simple act of cooking a basic meal is full of reminders of how much my cup really does runneth over. I'm not talking about the stuff. The coffee pot and the pan and the knife - those are all swell. It's the connections to people that really count as blessings, though. And, if a spot of breakfast is overflowing with reminders of how fucking sweet life is, and how many good people are part of my life? The rest of the day is a freaking cavalcade of things to be thankful for.

Now, I'm not saying that everyone is as lucky as I am. What I am saying is that most of us - especially those of us in the western world, where we have it pretty damned cushy - have a hell of a lot to be thankful for. I'm not crazy about the city in which I live. I'm not crazy about being single. I'm not crazy about not being able to see my family often, or that most of my friends live on the other side of the country. This doesn't mean I have nothing to be thankful for. It's almost obscene how much there is in my life to be thankful for: friends, family, good health, a sense of humor, a decent place to live, food in my belly. Coffee. My favorite sweater. A sharp mind. Freedom.

All in all, I live a life of incredible ease and comfort, and which affords me as much safety and security as anyone has a right to hope for. And this guy who supposedly has nothing to be thankful for? Even the small bit I know about him tells me he enjoys the same. Maybe he should stop being such a self-pitying dick, put away his woeful violin, and take a good look around him.

Life is a great, fucking thing. Be thankful, asshole.