WHAT I'M THANKFUL FOR THIS THANKSGIVING

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The sound of a carpenter's nail gun as he works on a new house. From half a block away, it sounds just like the old hammer and nails. Granted, that rhythm's missing, the one that could make you feel the nail sinking, tap by tap, into the surrendering wood. But that loud tok that carries through the neighborhood, is still intact. Okay, he's working on a townhouse, one of those fake Federal styles designed by a really stingy architect, with no eaves and the bare minimum number of windows. But still, people with more money than taste deserve a place to live, too. And that sound, on a quiet rainy day, can transform your outlook for a few moments. In the midst of a torrent of bad shit this week, I'll settle for that.