Thanksgiving

Sarah Hale: The Mother of Thanksgiving

Posted on by Mark Aldrich

In most of her portraits, Sarah Josepha Buell Hale, the reason we celebrate Thanksgiving in America, looks stern. Gentle, but stern. She was an editor, but befitting a woman of her era, she employed the term, “editress.” From age 33 until her death at age 90, she wore black, which designated her as a widow in mourning from the day her husband died until the day almost sixty yeas later that she was to join him.
Read More

Keep Calm & I Don’t Remember the Rest

Posted on by Mark Aldrich

The same friend who used to reply to my complaints about old pains and new aches with a cheerful, “But you’ve never been 48 (or whatever) before,” also used to say, “Remember, it’s just Tuesday” (or whatever day) when a person would confess to feeling anxious about an upcoming big event or holiday. (Lie, say, tomorrow’s much-anticipated T-Day.)

“It’s only a Saturday. Same as all the other ones. Sunday will come next. Same as all the other ones.”

Yes, yes, it is the same, definitely the same as all the other Saturdays, indeed, but it is a Saturday with the addition of my wedding or taking the GRE or the LSAT or … . An event-focused Saturday is an impersonation of all the other Saturdays. An awards ceremony is not just another setting for a mediocre hotel meal, even though it is that, too. So thanks for not helping us out there, not even one little bit, Mister Calm Guy.
Read More

Thanksgiving’s Mother

Posted on by Mark Aldrich

In most of her portraits, Sarah Josepha Buell Hale, the reason we celebrate Thanksgiving, looks stern. Gentle, but stern. She was an editor, but befitting a woman of her era, she employed the term, “editress.” From age 33 until her death at age 90, she wore black, which designated her as a widow in mourning from the day her husband died until the day she was to join him.
Read More