Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday. July Fourth is first, but I’m saving my reasons for that week’s edition. It’s not too cold yet. There’s lots of football: on television, in the backyard, and dominating the conversation. But mostly it’s the family, friends, food and fun without the stress, expense and exhaustion of what is meant to be a religious holiday that comes a month later.

Even while looking forward to the upcoming festivities, my tendency to over think rears its ugly head right in the middle of my own. It is a side of me no one likes. But, like a lioness and her appetite, this is the nature of the beastly. And there are two questions lurking in the brush that will remain until devoured.

Are we happy? Are we thankful?

The original draft of this column was a sweeping indictment of every decade since the one in which I came of age: the 1980s. The economy was booming, and to go without designer jeans and large, expensive sound systems were akin to deprivation. Those before us had been characterized by fighting: segregation, civil rights, for and against Vietnam, for and against the Equal Rights Amendment.

We had our own skirmish. We had to fight for the right to party. For those who don’t know-and that is to your credit-that is the paraphrased title from a popular song at the time. And it succinctly described the priorities of the decade, I always thought. The compulsion for more of everything and the sense of entitlement left me certain we were neither happy nor thankful.

What I only recently considered, embarrassing considering I was there, is the Iron Curtain still hung. Mutually assured destruction: we send our bombs and the others automatically fire back and vice versa like the dialing and the ringing of a telephone, was a part of everyone’s vocabulary and thought process from the age of puberty and above. So maybe we were eating, drinking, buying, charging and “cranking up the jams” because on some or perhaps every level, we thought the next day might just not come.

But on Nov. 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall came down. Our nation had survived her most menacing enemy. And yes, there were parties all over the world while our fears crumpled like the concrete between East and West Germany. I was at one of them, elated with the feeling of victory and indescribable relief. And I was happy and thankful at the time as I am now to be a part of the generation watching it through the eyes gifted by youth with optimistic idealism.

The 1990s, I unreasonably reasoned, were between the Cold War and the terrorist attacks. In the absence of real threat to their safety or that of those they loved, they looked for reasons to be offended. Terms for individuals, occupations, celebrations long held sacred, and even groups of people who had long self-identified by said term, had to be changed. Certainly, they were not happy or thankful.

However, Generation Y brought us awareness consequences we’d never considered: second hand smoke, addictive, over-the-counter stimulants sold far too freely, backseat and carseat necessities for children. But the awareness was far keener and more widespread. A concern and appreciation for our environment appeared. We started recycling, conserving water, looking for ways to preserve forests here and in other countries. Surely, it has occurred to more than a few members of this generation to be happy and thankful for the world in which they found themselves and what they’ve done to make it a better, safer, place.

Clearly, Generation Z has given us some cause for concern, aside from the ominous tone in calling them by the last letter of the alphabet. They bring to mind a quote by a very wise man.

“Children of today love luxury. They have bad manners and contempt for authority. They show disrespect for their elders and love chatter in the place of exercise.” So true…and so familiar. Probably because it is a paraphrased quote from the ancient philosopher, Hippocrates, and said sometime between 469 and 399 B.C. when he lived.

It seems every generation thinks the following is in the fast lane to Nowheresville and taking the world with it. Yet this big mostly blue marble keeps on spinning.

And today’s tykes are growing up in a world in which communication with the other side of the world may not even require a weightless cell phone or high-def screen. They will have an appreciation for the world, not just the world around them. This global awareness will educate them in a way no one old enough to read this ever thought possible. Without effort or coercion, they will learn the customs and traditions of other countries, to form their own opinion as to help when help is needed or remain neutral, even retreat when necessary. Wow.

Of course we are happy and thankful for our friends, family, shelter, food, the soldiers fighting over there to keep us safe over here and every good fortune we have. No one needs or should need to be reminded of that. This year I am thankful for those that came before, during and after my generation to shape the world around us, to protect us, and to educate us in their ways. I am happy that it occurred to be to go beyond my initial criticism to find that and be aware.

Hopefully, if anything in this column resonates with anyone it will be this: it is easy to criticize, complain and condemn. But first, look beneath the surface. Or, like an artist, turn it another angle. See it another way. There is always a possibility of finding a shine beneath the rust, a purpose for something tossed out as obsolete, and a reason to be happy and thankful we made the discovery and took the time to learn and benefit from the experience.

I just did.

Happy Thanksgiving, Pell City!