Thanksgiving Day

From the time you stepped into the house "So good to see you, do you want a snack?" Until the time we left "Just take some of this pie with you, oh, and don't forget the pretzels" my Grandmother provided a moving feast. She took personal affront if someone went more then 5 minutes without eating or drinking.

From the time I was very small, my memories include Thanksgiving at my Grandparent's house. My cousins Sherry and I would hover around the turkey when it came out of the oven waiting for Grandpa to carve the huge bird. We waited like impatient dogs, for the scraps of skin that Grandpa would give us. "You are going to make them sick" one or more of the Aunt's would say, but it never deterred Grandpa or us from sharing this ritual.

Dinner was always served in the basement of the house. The adults would sit around the large wooden table that would hold 16 adults. There were two kids tables, with a definate pecking order involved. Although it was a honor to be at the 2nd table, that table was also closer t o the adults watchful eye, so it was more difficult to do the experience that my cousins came up with. We would start buy burning hair, then corn, until Cousin Bobby would start putting his finger through the flame. This adventure usually ended abruptly when someone knocked the candle over or the adults would start smelling the burning.

After we ate, there was about at 1/2 respite before the second wave hit. The candy boxes from Fran Farmer came out and we were urged to take a few - more then a couple, but less then 4. The ice cream would soon follow, for those who hadn't gotten enough of the pie. It would be about 2 hours later that supper would be served - another copious feast of turkey and ham.

With the football games over, we would all hunker down in the living room to watch "Willie honkies Chocolate Factory" while Grandma passed out the caramel corn balls.

We would stagger out of the house, laden down with supplies for the long 1 hour trip home. My grandma believed in the scout motto of "always be prepared." Heaven forbid, we should had a pang of hunger during the ride home.

The Day After

It is the day after Thanksgiving. It has always been a special day for me. My husband Mark proposed to me on this day, 24 years ago. We had gone to my Grandma & Grandpa Etzler's house for Thanksgiving dinner the day before and were still quite full.

Since I lived out of town, Mom thought it would be a great day to go dress shopping. I knew that Mark and I would eventually get married, it was just a question of when. So Mom and I took off for a day of dreaming. I found the dress of my dreams the first one I tried on. Of course, you can't buy the first one you see, so we proceeded to visit every bridal shop in Fort Wayne. After a 6 hour search, we went back to the original store and bought the dress - a real bargain at $250!

That evening at dinner, Mark mentioned that he was hearing a funny noise in his car and wanted Dad to go with him to the gas station to see if he could figure it out. We all howled, my Dad at that time was particularly deaf and couldn't hear. "Oh no, you wouldn't want me to come, I can't hear a thing." my Dad chortled. Later that night we went out with my sisters to a couple of bars downtown. It was a cold night, but Mark insisted we go to Frieman's square, a small park with a fountain in downtown Ft. Wayne. He had me stand on a pedestal and then gave me a beautiful serpentine necklace. He wanted to fasten it around my neck. I thanked him, but said we needed to go, because I had to use the restroom. "Just a minute, he said, it is up on your collar." I reached up impatiently, to see what it had caught on and felt a ring! Of course I said yes, when he got down on bended knee to ask me to marry him.

Much to my disappointment, everyone was asleep when we got home. I learned the next day that Mom had champagne cooling in the fridge to celebrate. When I called my Grandma Etzler, to tell her the news, she said "Well, if he had given it to you yesterday, he would have gotten a Christmas Check also. Guess he will have to wait until next year."

Hell Week

Well, it is that time of year again. The leaves and the temps have fallen. The pumpkins have landed in the trash and the Halloween candy has been eaten, either by the kids or the dogs. It isn't quite time to plan the Thanksgiving Day menu, but time to figure out who is going to host the celebrations. Yes, it is tryout week at the Smith house.

Like families around the world, we have gone through the preperations - sharpened the skates, new mouthguards. The fridge is filled with water, milk, juice. lunchables and Gatorade, PopTarts, Frozen Waffles and Power Bars fill the cupboards. At least we won't go hungry.

Parents are once again sidelined. We can offer support and love, but it is the kids who have to do the work. The first day is filled iwth skating drills. We don't get a lot of feedback - mostly grunts and groans. The list is posted the next morning telling the kids which session they should attend. hat is when the analyis begins. What does it mean if you are in that group? Why aren't those kids scheduled to play? Is that bad or good.

The week drags on. Kids nad parents alike are tired, just waiting for the week to be over. There is the obligatory injured player. Rumors abound - he broke his nose, he had to get 20 stitches, but the kid in question shows up for tryouts the next day with a band aid as his badge of honor.

Once the final cuts are made there will be some suprises both good and bad and some total shockers.

The coaches words echo thoughout the rink. What seems like life and death today, really will only be about a 3 on a scale of ten when you look back on this in ten years. In another couple of weeks we will be at the rink, cheering on the team. Once again we are reminded that is really is just a game.

The List

Monday morning quarerbacks have nothing on the hockey dads trying to handicap the local hockey tryouts. It doesn't matter what level of hockey we are talking about. Starting with the Squirt level (3rd & 4th grades) The dads compare notes on players they have scouted throughout the summer.

A little known fact to most people coming in to the local hockey store buy laces for their skates or another mouthguard is the closely guarded lst under the counter. This priceless piece if paper contains the "dream team" drafted by the local koffee klach of hockey dads. The list is pored over before and during the tryout period. Rumors abound about the list - who has input into it? How acurate is it? Heaven only knows the wagers that have been placed based on the List.

There are many things taken into consideration when putting together the list. Has the player grown over the summer? Has someone gotten new equipment? Who is the coach for the team? Did you hear about that kid who moved into the district?

And of course, there is the Mom Factor. It is common knowledge that all things being equal that having a cute mom, can tilt the balance of the pick. Of course a cute mom can be offset by an obnoxious Dad.

The bookies in Vegas could take lessons from the Hockey Dad's when figuring out the odds for the Super Bowl.