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Thread: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

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    Default As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    It's becoming almost as much of a tradition as the song that caused it... And yes, this is a true story, although time and distance may have affected the veracity of the truth by now....
    November 1986. I'm out in Mendocino CA., going to school to learn how to be a better wood worker.
    As the month wears on I hear people talking about their Thanksgiving plans. Some are going off to friend's houses in nearby towns or states, some are going to "The city". One couple is going camping, but a good bunch of us are silent. So I decide to invite all of us orphans over to my place for a potluck. The idea seems good to me, but is greeted with a deafening silence. Well not to be dissuaded from my plans I invite as many of the apparently directionless locals to a potluck Thanksgiving dinner. The 7 or 8 permanent residents of the little bar across the street, The mechanics at the garage 2 doors down (Joe's garage), and various other characters that can be found in most northern california towns. I'm supplying the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce. Bring a dish of something you like.
    As the day gets closer and closer, however, those stoney faced classmates who'd stayed silent started coming forward. "I don't suppose it would be OK for me to stop by, would it.... My plans fell through...." By the Monday before the Thursday all of the orphaned classmates were planning on coming, and had even gotten together to decide who would bring what.
    It occurs to me that I now have about 30 people coming over for dinner, and I have 4 chairs. Someone offers to stop by "Scotty's" and pick up a load of folding chairs. Problem solved.
    I stop by the local Grand Union to peruse the turkey selection. I've been doing my research, I need about a pound of bird per person. Most of the birds are 10-14 pounds. No way I'm cooking two birds. I dig a little deeper, and there at the bottom are these mutant ice age frozen creatures...
    Ever seen a 30 pound turkey? FREAKIN' HUGE! Turk-zilla!
    I buy the biggest one they have, 33 pounds of frozen flesh. And a pile of other stuff....
    I leave the carcass in a cooler on the back steps and stow all the other stuff in cabinets. That thing should thaw out by Thursday morning.....
    Wednesday I realise that the local radio station hasn't mentioned anything about when they'll be playing "Alice's restaurant" tomorrow. Ya can't miss that, it's like the turkey, just part of the day. By late afternoon I'm getting nervous, so I call the radio station to ask when they'll be playing the song. "What? Why would we play "alice's restaurant" at a particular time tomorrow?" THUD!!!! These heathens don't know THE TRADITION! This seems completely at odds with what I know about No.Cal. There are no native northern Californians. Everyone is FROM somewhere else. Anyone born in No.Cal moves TOsomewhere else.
    So I explain the significance of the song, with the church and the garbage and the 12 course meal that just couldn't be beat, and the shovels and rakes and implements of destruction, and the 24 8X10 glossy photographs with a paragraph on the back of each one explaining.....Well you get the picture. The DJ was less than impressed.
    A little later the DJ shift change happens and the new DJ is one that I've been calling to make requests from over the course of the last few months. She's talking about how she'll be working all day tomorrow, so she'll miss her familly Thanksgiving.
    I call and ask her when she'll be playing "Alice's restaurant". "Why would I play "Alice's restaurant?" So I explain the significance of.... Well you get the picture. This DJ is much nicer than the last one, and she laughs and asks when it's "Traditional" to play the song.
    6:00AM Noon and 6:00PM. She promises to play it at noon.
    A little while later I hear her announce on the radio that "Alice's restaurant" will be played at noon tomorrow.
    STAY TUNED for the next installment!

  2. #2
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    I never knew.
    Can't wait for the next chapter.
    Thanks Lefty.

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice's_Restaurant

    The best statement I've seen from this latest carnage came from a student who lived through it -

    "My generation will not allow this to continue!"

    Remember voting age is 18. Read it and weep reds.

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    Default Great

    I'm in the mood already.

    I had to move to America to realize that Arlo was an elitist.

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    I'm just waing for it to come around on the gee-tar

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    Default Alice's Restaurant

    For those who won't get to hear it on Thursday, and with 20 minutes to read...


    Alice's Restaurant
    By Arlo Guthrie
    This song is called Alice's Restaurant, and it's about Alice, and therestaurant, but Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant,that's just the name of the song, and that's why I called the song Alice'sRestaurant.You can get anything you want at Alice's RestaurantYou can get anything you want at Alice's RestaurantWalk right in it's around the backJust a half a mile from the railroad trackYou can get anything you want at Alice's RestaurantNow it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago onThanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at therestaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in thechurch nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray andFasha the dog. And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot ofroom downstairs where the pews used to be in. Havin' all that room,seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn'thave to take out their garbage for a long time.We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd bea friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. Sowe took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VWmicrobus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headedon toward the city dump.Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across thedump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving." And we had never heard of a dumpclosed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove offinto the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of theside road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of thecliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pileis better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up wedecided to throw our's down.That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgivingdinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until thenext morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie. He said, "Kid,we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton ofgarbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it." AndI said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelopeunder that garbage."After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone wefinally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go downand pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at thepolice officer's station. So we got in the red VW microbus with theshovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward thepolice officer's station.Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done atthe police station, and the first was he could have given us a medal forbeing so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, andwe didn't expect it, and the other thing was he could have bawled us outand told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again,which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's stationthere was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we wasboth immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think Ican pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid.Get in the back of the patrol car."And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to thequote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town ofStockbridge, Massachusets, where this happened here, they got three stopsigns, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to theScene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars,being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted toget in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds ofcop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer's station.They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, andthey took twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circlesand arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what eachone was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach,the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that's not tomention the aerial photography.After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to putus in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want yourwallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting mywallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do youwant my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." Isaid, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?"Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out thetoilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he tookout the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars roll out the - roll thetoilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obiewas making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice(remember Alice? It's a song about Alice), Alice came by and with a fewnasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went backto the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat,and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-tencolour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the backof each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up,and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossypictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and hesat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at thetwenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrowsand a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog.And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circlesand arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry,'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of Americanblind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and thejudge wasn't going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossypictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of eachone explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. Andwe was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but thats notwhat I came to tell you about.Came to talk about the draft.They got a building down New York City, it's called Whitehall Street,where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected,neglected and selected.
    "The desire to build a house is the tired wish of a man content thenceforward with a single anchorage. The desire to build a boat is the desire of youth, unwilling yet to accept the idea of a final resting place." -Arthur Ransome

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    Alice's Restaurant
    By Arlo Guthrie

    Continued...


    I went down to get my physical examination oneday, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, soI looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. `Cause I wanted tolook like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wantedto feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York,and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and allkinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gaveme a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the phsychiatrist, room 604."And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, Iwanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore andguts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill,KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," andhe started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and downyelling, "KILL, KILL." And the sargent came over, pinned a medal on me,sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."Didn't feel too good about it.Proceeded on down the hall gettin more injections, inspections,detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to meat the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, fourhours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nastyugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they wasinspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving nopart untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see thelast man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there,and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only gotone question. Have you ever been arrested?"And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacre,with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and allthe phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you evergo to court?"And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-tencolour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph onthe back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I wantyou to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W .... NOW kid!!"And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W'swhere they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army aftercommitting your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty uglylooking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Fatherrapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! Andthey was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on thebench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanestfather raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to meand said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay$50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?"And I said, "Littering." And they all moved away from me on the benchthere, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till Isaid, "And creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand,and we had a great time on the bench, talkin about crime, mother stabbing,father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on thebench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds ofthings, until the Sargeant came over, had some paper in his hand, held itup and said."Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting-officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked forforty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we hadfun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there,and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote itdown there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down thepencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on theother side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else onthe other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read thefollowing words"KID, HAVE YOU REHABILITATED YOURSELF?")I went over to the sargent, said, "Sargeant, you got a lot a damn gall toask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'msittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin here on the Group W bench'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough join the army, burn women,kids, houses and villages after bein' a litterbug." He looked at me andsaid, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprintsoff to Washington."And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is astudy in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'msinging you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similarsituation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in asituation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk intothe shrink wherever you are ,just walk in say "Shrink, You can getanything you want, at Alice's restaurant.". And walk out. You know, ifone person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick andthey won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony,they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them.And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking insingin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's anorganization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I saidfifty people a day walking in singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant andwalking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.And that's what it is , the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement, andall you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on theguitar.With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here andsing it when it does. Here it comes.You can get anything you want, at Alice's RestaurantYou can get anything you want, at Alice's RestaurantWalk right in it's around the backJust a half a mile from the railroad trackYou can get anything you want, at Alice's RestaurantThat was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing itfor another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired.So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four partharmony and feeling.We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.All right now.You can get anything you want, at Alice's RestaurantExcepting AliceYou can get anything you want, at Alice's RestaurantWalk right in it's around the backJust a half a mile from the railroad trackYou can get anything you want, at Alice's RestaurantDa da da da da da da dumAt Alice's Restaurant
    "The desire to build a house is the tired wish of a man content thenceforward with a single anchorage. The desire to build a boat is the desire of youth, unwilling yet to accept the idea of a final resting place." -Arthur Ransome

  7. #7
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    that was the year I sold my bike shop in Mendocino.

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    From what I've seen, it varies a good bit based on where you are in the country. It seems to be fairly common here in Rhode Island not to leave for someplace else.

    It seems to me that it is also a combination of the modern economy, where it is unlikely that many people will be able to work the same job their whole life, and the realization that there are possiblities out there for careers that are more rewarding than what might be available wherever you happen to have been raised.

    It seems to me that there are plusses and minuses on both sides of the equation and that it is up to each of us to weigh them. I know some people who move every few years as a better opportunity comes up someplace else. That strikes me as hellish. You never have a chance to really develop roots in a community. On the other hand, I would not give up for anything the diversity of experience I have been able to accumulate by living in a variety of different states.

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    Quote Originally Posted by LeeG
    that was the year I sold my bike shop in Mendocino.
    What was? 1986?

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    Damn it Lefty.......quit leaving us hangin
    Quote Originally Posted by George Jung View Post
    Don't under-estimate Jack. He's purty damned talented

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    Oops! time to cook the stirfry "Shaking beef"..... Be back later!

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    .
    Quote Originally Posted by George Jung View Post
    Don't under-estimate Jack. He's purty damned talented

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    Doug,

    Thanks for the best chuckle so far today. and for the AR lyric.

    Russ
    Hove to off Swan Point......

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    Quote Originally Posted by Mrleft8
    What was? 1986?
    yep, 1986,

    one of my favorite memories was going to a Halloween party upstairs at the bar/restaurant next to the fire station. A female cycling friend was my height and a few lbs lighter than my 145lbs (gee, I don't look 60lbs heavier now), she was looking for something cat suit like,,I had some lycra suspender tights that she wore backwards so the lycra back was in front and the suspenders were in back, she was on the bodacious side so it didn't sag anywhere,scoop back , not sure how she kept it together in front ,lycra cycling outfits hadn't caught on yet so she stood out from all angles.
    or was she a blackbird with feather mask,?,I know I was there. Maybe she was a cat,,yeah,,whiskers, she was a cat.

    Seagull Inn Cellar bar,,but the bar was upstairs.
    Last edited by LeeG; 11-20-2006 at 08:22 PM.

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    Quote Originally Posted by LeeG
    yep, 1986,

    one of my favorite memories was going to a Halloween party upstairs at the bar/restaurant next to the fire station. A female cycling friend was my height and a few lbs lighter than my 145lbs (gee, I don't look 60lbs heavier now), she was looking for something cat suit like,,I had some lycra suspender tights that she wore backwards so the lycra back was in front and the suspenders were in back, she was on the bodacious side so it didn't sag anywhere,scoop back , not sure how she kept it together in front ,lycra cycling outfits hadn't caught on yet so she stood out from all angles.
    or was she a blackbird with feather mask,?,I know I was there. Maybe she was a cat,,yeah,,whiskers, she was a cat.

    Seagull Inn Cellar bar,,but the bar was upstairs.
    I always prefered "Dick's" But the bar I lived across the street from was actually in Caspar. The "Caspar Inn" We often called it the "Aspirin" on Sunday mornings.... And folks.....
    A ten second update , but the rest comes tomorrow....


    A little while later I hear that "Alices restaurant" will be played at both noon, and 6:00PM... I call up the station to make a request and see what's up.
    "You wouldn't believe how many phone calls I'm getting! Holy (expletive deleted) What's UP with you guys?! Are we, like the ONLY people in the whole world that don't play 'alice's restaurant' on Thanksgiving?" YES.
    So we talk a bit, I request a song or 5, and eventually the DJ asks me what I'm up to tomorrow..... So I tell her about the 30 some odd characters that I don't really know who are going to show up and eat the turkey that I..... Oh CRAP! I oughta go check that turkey! It's been in a cooler on the back porch for 3 days.....

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    I run out to the back porch and flip open the lid of the cooler and...... It seems OK.... No foul odor... I give it a poke with my finger... UH OH!... the top 1/4" is OK, but it's still a rock below that. Damn these efficient Coleman coolers! I pull the semi-thawed birdzilla out of the cooler and set it in the sink with a damp cloth draped over it. I get back to the livingroom and see the phone is still on the coffee table. "Hello?" Seems I forgot to hang up. So I invite the DJ to stop by and join us on her way home from work. She laughs and says "Maybe I will.". A little later it is announced that a 6:00AM airing of "Alice's restaurant" has been added to the play list.
    A small glitch developes when the person who was going to stop by "Scotty's" to borrow chairs calls up to say that Scotty is having his daughter and a friend over, so we can't have all the chairs... I count on my fingers....That's 3 people, how many folding chairs were you going to borrow? 10. Well, can we borrow 7? Um.....Hadn't thought of that.... Lemme ask, Click.
    I wake up just in time to miss the early airing of the song. I check the turkey, it feels fine. This is the point where I realise that I have NO idea how to cook a bird this size.
    I call mom.
    I wedge the freshly washed beast into the aluminum foil pan ,breast side down, and sprinkle it with Bell's poultry seasoning. Pre-heat the oven to 450f and..... Hmmmmmm. Doesn't quite look like it'll fit in the apartment sized oven.... I pull the rack which I had put on the lowest rack slide out completely. I tie the wing tips and legs together and bind them down tight. It JUST fits. sure the back is touching the oven top.... but that won't matter...
    I fire up the stove top and start making cranberry sauce. After 20 minutes I open the oven, slide the super heated monster out onto the oven door and try to flip it over. Ever try to flip a red hot 30 pound slick with fat turkey over? After a few tries I manage it. I dust the breast side with Bell's poultry seasoning, and rosemary and garlic, turn the temp. down to 325 and slide the hulk back into the oven. now the breast is touching the roof of the oven, but what can I do? The wing tips have come loose too, and are touching the sides of the oven. Never has an oven been so completely utilized.
    The phone starts to ring. What time are we expected? Where do you live? What do you need us to bring? I talked to Scotty, We can have all the chairs. Is it OK if he and his daughter and friend join us? He forgot to buy a turkey...
    I realise I have no idea how to make stuffing. I have all the ingredients, thanks to a shopping list provided by my mother the week before but...
    I call mom.
    Around 3 people start showing up. Food is piled on the table. Paper plates and genuine steel utensils are put out. A few misguided souls thought they would "Just pop the pie in the oven to finish it off.".... I have just put the stuffing into the cavity for the final 20 minutes.
    Someone has decided that it's just not Thanksgiving without a fire in the fireplace. Nevermind that the oven has been keeping the house at sauna like tempatures for the last 6 hours.... All doors and windows are open, and it's still a sweat lodge.
    I pull the turkey out, and with the help of two others we haul it over to sit on the kitchen woodstove (Thank GOD no one thought we needed THAT fired up!) to "rest".
    The oven looks kind of odd empty, but it quickly fills with a couple of pies, which are then replaced by a sweet potato caserole, and something else in a covered dish.
    I go outside to get some air. There are cars parked up and down the street. The Caspar Inn must be doing great business. I'll just slip across the street and grab a quick cold beer and relax for a second.
    The door is locked. I peer through the door. The lights are down. Then I notice the paper note on the other door. "Opening at 6Thanksgiving day"
    HOLY SH!T! ALL these people are at MY house?!
    I run back across the road and sure enough the entire front room/livingroomm/diningroom is wall to wall people, spilling out the front door onto the porch, the view through the bedroom window looks much the same.
    Someone has carved the bird, and everyone has a plate piled with food. People introduce themselves and friends that they brought with them. By the time I get a frosty beer and slam it down, and grab a plate..... There is one dried out, slightly charred wingtip left. The turkey skeleton looks like something you'd see at the museum of natural history.
    I fill my plate with side dishes.
    "Having seconds eh? That turkey sure was good!"
    "No these are my firsts, and I wouldn't know about the turkey...."
    Everyone laughs, thinking that I'm joking.
    The party continues into the evening. The Caspar Inn opens up and an improptu "Open Mike" night occurs.
    One really good thing was that I did no dishes. People chipped in and I just sat on the front porch drinking beer and unwinding. Talking to people I would probably never see again. At around 7 an old Buick Skylark, with a rotted out muffler chugs to a stop out front.
    An attractive woman with long dark hair climbs out and walks up to the porch. "Hi, is this where Doug lives?"
    I'd know that voice anywhere! "KC?!" I get her a plate of left overs and a beer. We sit and talk into the wee small hours of the night.
    It was a good Thanksgiving indeed! Karen and I remained "an item" for the next 8 months, until I had to return to the real world on the east coast....

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    bout time..........thanks
    Quote Originally Posted by George Jung View Post
    Don't under-estimate Jack. He's purty damned talented

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    What a great story! Thanks!

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    Great story! Thanks!

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    I guess I'm too late for some turkey?
    The best statement I've seen from this latest carnage came from a student who lived through it -

    "My generation will not allow this to continue!"

    Remember voting age is 18. Read it and weep reds.

  21. #21
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    My pleasure! (Really! It was! )

  22. #22
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    Quote Originally Posted by John Teetsel
    I guess I'm too late for some turkey?
    I'm thinkin'........Yeah.....Just a lil' late John....But next year!

  23. #23
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    Tanks Doug, I'm glad I bugged you about this.

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    Hope it was worth the wait Garreth. I don't think that I had as much detail in this year's version, but I couldn't search uplast year, or the year before, so I had to remember my memory from memory..... It was a great day....Truely and absolutely!

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    Nice story! thanks.
    Hey! It's MY Hughniverse!

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    And according to a friend who called from Philo this evening, The tradition has stuck! 6AM Noon and 6PM on KMFB FM (Can't recall the number..... 92.9 rings a bell, but I dunno)

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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Bump

  28. #28
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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Quote Originally Posted by Hwyl View Post
    Tanks Doug, I'm glad I bugged you about this.
    What I said then.

  29. #29
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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    You can hear it on WMBR in Boston too. Dick Pleasants knows the drill like the back of his hand as does Dave Parmenter there.
    A society predicated on the assumption that everyone in it should want to get rich is not well situated to become either ethical or imaginative.

    Photographer of sailing and sailboats
    And other things, too.
    http://www.landsedgephoto.com

  30. #30
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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Ok Ill share with the group.
    About 12 years ago when I was alone and single my best friend was just coming out of a nasty relationship and our other buddy's wife just left him for some line dancing dude remember that fad ???? So being that we were all alone on thanksgiving we decided we would make it together. Well as word spread out that the boys were gonna put on a t-day feast we got a few other request from a few people and by the end we had about 20 displaced people coming over.

    As we were prepping early for the days events we opened the first beer at about 10:00 am. By the time the bird hit the table we three had consumed about a case of beer and a good size bottle of Makers Mark. Oh and we thought we were all charming and funny as all hell. So of course we decided the only way to be more funny was to consume more alchahol. From what we could piece together the following afternoon when we all awoke, we indeed put on a hell of a delicious feast and proceeded to alienate every other person with our drunken obnoxiousness, to the point where people got up and left. Lots of inappropriate behavior and tons of bad decision making went into that holiday feast. I did wake up with one married woman’s phone number in my pocket ??? Way to afraid how I got it and I did not want to find out. But in the morning when we got the phone call (while face down on the floor) that one of our three amigos was calling to apologies, it took a full 5 minutes of talking to him on the phone to realize he was no longer in the house. WHERE are you and why are you apologizing? Seems he hard a hard time keeping the stuffing down and used his shirt as a catch basin so he had to run home and shower, but he was on his way back to help us clean up. We spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up best we could and vowing if we ever were alone one thanksgiving that we could always get together with any of us. Cause we were the only people who could stand us
    This post is temporary and my disappear at the discretion of the managment

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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Interesting to look at the threads from last year at this time.

    There's one by the Meer titled "Happy Thanksgiving"...
    A society predicated on the assumption that everyone in it should want to get rich is not well situated to become either ethical or imaginative.

    Photographer of sailing and sailboats
    And other things, too.
    http://www.landsedgephoto.com

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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Great story! Thanks!

    Hey, did you know Spencer & Barbara Zeiger? They were friends of ours who lived in Mendocino around that time, I think, although I don't know if they were married then. And in fact, she might not have been Barbara then either; IIRC she adopted a genuine old-time mystico-botanical hippie name for a while. He ran the photography store up on the second foor of one of the buildings downtown.
    "For a successful technology, reality must take precedence over public relations,
    for nature cannot be fooled."

    Richard Feynman

  33. #33
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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Quote Originally Posted by elf View Post
    Interesting to look at the threads from last year at this time.

    There's one by the Meer titled "Happy Thanksgiving"...
    Nice thread. I enjoy all the reminders.

    Elf, one of our first repartees was over cranberry sauce. Do you recall? Part of the deal here at chez Barrett is that canned jellied cranberry sauce, the gelatinous, non-whole berry Ocean Spray variety, is very much the sauce of choice at our feast. Everything else is scratch made; the stuffing, pies, the sides, even unto the stocks used in the various preparations, but unadulterated canned cranberry sauce is preferred. Anyway, we discussed this at some length. I know your preference; this reminder offered just as a point of reference.

    When Meer wrote that thread, he had less than 4 months left to live.
    I think he may be lucky in some ways. No kids, no concerns, no rising seas.

  34. #34
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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Ah, yes. Lew. Cranberry sauce. I doubt we'll ever agree on that, but I could make you all some jellied cranberry juice like the stuff that comes out of the can, except that it would be a better color, and you could put the cranberry mash into the stuffing!

    You might be interested to know that we have had so little rain this year that the cranberries are small and parched, and it's been very difficult to do the water harvest. This is bad for juice, since the juice berries are from the water harvest (where they flood the bogs and vacuum up the berries off the surface of the flood).

    I don't know what it's been like in Wisconsin, however. The drought might just be yet another knell in the dying of the New England cranberry farming.

    By the way, Lew. I was googling house prices in Astoria and Neah Bay one day a couple weeks ago and determined that there are no houses for sale in Neah Bay. Is this because it's a native's people's reservation, or because the poverty is so pervasive out there that noone deliberately goes to live there? Or both?

    it was interesting, looking at the prices. Even on Long Beach in WA, across the river from Astoria, prices seemed very low compared to here.
    A society predicated on the assumption that everyone in it should want to get rich is not well situated to become either ethical or imaginative.

    Photographer of sailing and sailboats
    And other things, too.
    http://www.landsedgephoto.com

  35. #35
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    Default Re: As requested, the annual Mendocino Thanksgiving story...

    Prices on the coast are surprisingly affordable, I think. It can be a really beautiful stretch, but the weather is severe and there's a fair amount of isolation and distance between "there" and "here."
    I don't know why nothing is available in Neah Bay. I suspect your guess may be correct; the property there is simply not for sale by the original owners The Pacific coast is very sparsely developed. What isn't dedicated park or Federal land is indeed largely Indian owned. Ocean Shores, Forks, and a few other small towns might be better bets for choices. Or, you could try some of the places along the Straight, like Port Angeles.

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