Thanksgiving is almost here, and I'm dreading it. I'm mostly dreading the immature rants by my young nephew, the Phish T-shirt, dreadlock wearing wanna-be radical. In the past he's attempted to ruin the meal by commenting on animal rights and gobbling like a turkey, ranting about the genocide of the Indians and calling our family hypocrites. Now, with the war on terrorism, I'm sure he'll have even more leftist, secular humanist propaganda to spew. It just eats me up inside, what do I do?

Stuffed up to here with his nonsense

Dear Stuffed,

Well, we were all young once. When Adam was young, liberation theology was in vogue, and many of Adam's peers wanted to become priests so that they could run down to Latin America and overthrow the oppressive capitalist warlords of El Salvador and Guatemala. Funny, we don't hear much about that any more.

Anyhow, may I suggest that you say the following Thanksgiving blessing, which should take the wind out of that spoiled young blowhard's sails:

Dear Lord, thank you for the wonderful bounty. The succulent turkey, who led a life of ease before being sacrificed for a our bodies. The Native Indians, who now drive pickups and live in warm trailers with satellite TV and a cold beer, instead of dark, smoky, flea infested longhouses and teepees and gardia infested water. And don't forget our fighting men in Asia, risking it all so that we may continue to enjoy our freedoms and standards of living, risking it all so that any ignorant brat who's read Marighella and Guevera and Mao can spew verbal diarrhea while leaching off their long suffering parents without having to work an honest day in their overpriviliged life. Amen.

As an aside, one small branch of Adam's family tree does come from the Iroquois nation, and I for one prefer my modest four square in the city over a long house any day of the week.

Dear Adam,

One night, after completing our marital duties, my wife asked me about fantasies. Mine was a fairly prosaic re-enactment of Noah, but she said she wanted to try dark meat. She said she's only had white meat her entire life, and was curious about what the ladies at the auxiliary had told her about dark meat. She just wants to try it once, should I let her?

Mr. White Meat

Dear Mr. Meat,

Forgive me for not answering your letter when I got it a few months ago, I thought it was more appropriate to wait until now. Thursday is Thanksgiving in our most blessed country, so surprise your wife by piling high her plate with dark meat. Tell her not to be so silly, if she wanted to try dark meat, she shouldn't have waited so long, she can have it anytime.

Have a Blessed Thanksgiving everyone.