Oh, Thanksgiving, where art thou?

You have been sandwiched in between Halloween candy and Christmas preparations; your turkey dinner crammed in between early-bird shopping sales and the pigskin games.

Some people, alas, even serve roast beef. What would Ben Franklin think? (He wanted the North American wild turkey to be our national bird.)

During October, I saw many yards decorated in a Halloween theme -- orange twinkling lights, carved pumpkins and blow-up ghosts and witches. So far, I have spotted just one large Turkey Day yard display on the northwest corner of 29th and Douglas streets.

In the past three weeks, an increasing number of lawns and houses feature twinkling red and green or white lights. I understand wanting to install the outdoor decor before freezing weather and the snow flies. I put up some, too. But, it used to be the rule you did not turn on those lights until after Thanksgiving.

Even Santa showed up at the downtown holiday extravaganza Monday evening.

I fear I am becoming an old fogey. And, I kind of like it.

Growing up, Thanksgiving carried more weight. It seemed to be a day of substance, surpassing the table laden with harvest food.

Relatives said prayers that lasted more than 30 seconds. We talked about the meaning of the holiday before we lifted the first fork.

As a child, we often celebrated at my mother's aunt's and uncle's house on Jennings Street -- Kathleen and Walter Webb, Jr. Great Aunt Kathleen, her younger sister, Isobel Schatz, and mom cooked the food.

Uncle Walter, Uncle Herman Schatz and dad dug out the table leaves that stretched that beautiful mahogany table to 12 feet in length to accommodate family and guests.

We dined on turkey, goose and duck. What else? Dressing, mashed potatoes, several corn dishes, cranberries in assorted creations, vegetables and rolls served with Aunt Isobel's homemade currant jelly.

I don't remember what was served for dessert. Probably minced pie.

It must have been at one of these family affairs that my little brother Jim asked in a loud, piping voice, "Mommy, what are these tablecloths for?" The next day, Mother -- never wanting to be so embarrassed by an offspring again -- started using linen napkins every night at dinner.

After I went to work in Lincoln and then in Omaha, Mom visited and we would celebrate by dining at a fine restaurant. If he could, Jim would join us. One year in Lincoln, Jim cooked the bird.

This year, I will work, as dad, a police officer, often did on holidays.

Upon reflection, I know it's not how we celebrate that counts. It's that we remember to be thankful for our blessings -- our family and dear friends, our service men and women and the freedoms our country affords us. Now, let's eat!

*****

Quote of the Week: Constant council commentator Jerry Moore on Monday criticized the $155,000 the city spent buying dog kennels, cat cages and other equipment for the new animal shelter under construction. Councilman Dave Ferris joked, "Each one has a jacuzzi, a king-sized bed and a spa."