Equinox Deliveries – My Thanksgiving tradition

Yes, I’m writing this blog at 5:30 in the morning, but I need to get my thoughts down on cyberpaper before I leave for the Empire State Plaza.

While the Capital District’s families gather together for delicious turkey dinners, reunions with loved ones, and trying to guess how many points the Detroit Lions will get clobbered by – for me, Thanksgiving is a very personal holiday.  It’s a chance to provide something for those who have battled adversity to make it to another late November.

Which is why, as soon as I upload this weblog to the Times-Union homepage, I’m off to the Empire State Plaza – after a pit stop at the local Sunoco to fill the Pontiac 6000 with all the unleaded regular it can carry – to pick up an assortment of turkey dinners, pumpkin pies and other tasty treats.  Destination for these treats – it all depends on the little cards provided by an Equinox distribution list.  Senior Citizens home in Albany – family in Schenectady – rural shut-ins in Ballston Spa, it doesn’t matter.  Everybody deserves a hearty meal on Thanksgiving.

So what if I have to stand in line for two hours, one of 500 different drivers waiting to load up their cars with dinners?  So what if I have to run to Stewart’s in mid-delivery to get a Table Talk pie to replace one that I accidentally dropped on the ground?  This is what you do for someone else.  It’s not charity… it’s commitment.

And believe me, it’s not braggadocio or boasting.  I’ve been through times in my life when I could have used a meal on Thanksgiving.  There were those cold November weekends when I was in college and chose not to go home for Thanksgiving weekend, because I feared that with my unstable family and the crises inherent thereto, I might not get a chance to return to campus.  I ate my Thanksgiving dinner out of a campus candy machine with a Coca-Cola chaser, and although there is no Tryptophan in a package of Snickers, it was a better choice than worrying about whether my stepfather had downed one too many cans of Schlitz and was in a very confrontational mood.

Even after college, there were years when I sat in a chilly studio apartment on South Lake Avenue in Albany and made my Thanksgiving dinner out of whatever leftovers left in the refrigerator that weren’t growing hair or skin on them.  In other words, I’ve gone without in my life … and I don’t want anybody else to ever be in that situation on a holiday such as this.

So for a day, my Pontiac 6000 and I become the equivalent of Meals on Wheels.  And hopefully there will be a nearby Stewart’s – just in case I accidentally drop another piece of pie and need a replacement Table Talk pie at the last minute.