The product recommendations on our site are independently chosen by our editors. When you click through our links, we may earn a commission. Thanks for helping us do what we love.

The Quest | Iron Skillets & Flat Scrambled Eggs

“Feel the quiet in the thunder”¦”

Dateline:   Thankful Things

What is thanks?


What exactly does “I Give Thanks” mean?

Is thanks, relief – relief that things are good, relief that things aren’t worse?

Relief Day, not the most marketable of holidays.   The Hallmark Relief Day card would pretty much only have to say, “Whew”¦made it.”

Families all over America would cook the Relief Turkey, set the Relief Table, Relief Day travel would set new records.


What is … thanks?

Is thanks, them, those not you, those over there, them without, you with?

Them Day”¦a celebration of Them, they who don’t have what you’ve got.   Every Hallmark Them Day card would begin with, “At least we”¦”


What is, thanks?

Is thanks, luck, lucky are those who can give thanks?

Luck Day”¦a celebration of gee whiz, don’t know how, but yippee.

I lost, thanks.   Lost thankful.   Thank you, was meaningless, a common courtesy like asking “How Are You,” while not really caring.

58 years of Relief Day.

58 years of Them Day.

58 years of Luck Day.

Then came this year, the 59th year of my life. It may be the best year of my life; it may be the worst year of my life.

Whether the best, or the worst, doesn’t matter, what matters, is simply this, it will be my first, Thanksgiving.

Talk about come late to the party.

I had to be the object of Relief Day, to get it.   The same with Them Day, the same with Luck Day.

It took, “At Least I’m Not db Day,” for me to finally know the meaning of, thanks.

Thanks, means love.

To say thanks, is to honor how fragile life is, how special everything around us is, how special we are or we can become.

I believe the act of being thankful is so special that the universe, gave us, and only us, a special place where thanks lives within us.

And we call that place, our soul.

“”¦sense of wonder

sing your praises”¦”

Sunrise, is how the universe says thanks.

You can not stand on a dock at First Safe Light and watch the morning sun come out of the lake, or up from behind a hill, or burst from the clouds, and not be thankful.

Be thankful for another chance, for another shot at it.

Give thanks the sunrise comes.

Give thanks the universe is an optimist.

No sunrise would come if out there somewhere, something, didn’t believe in us, even when we ourselves might not believe in us.

People, if the sun is on your face, quit bitchin’!

On this, my first Thanksgiving, it is this opportunity that I will say thanks.

I will say thanks for the soil I stand on.

I will say thanks for the air I breathe.

I will say thanks, for freedom.

The freedom to be thankful.

Free, to be, free.   To stand there and watch the sunset and yet know that, the sunrise comes, and with the sunrise comes, opportunity.

“”¦sing the changes”¦”

In the 59th year of my life, I became a child.

Childhood came late for me.

I’m thankful, it came at all.   I was born grown up.   Born as I was, in a storm.   Storm of health, a family in a storm.

Sunrise, not a given.

Born, old.

Lived, old.

My childhood was a monopoly game, played alone.   You age quick when you grow up trying to beat yourself.

And then suddenly, I was old.

Hair fell off my head, but suddenly grew out of my nose.   I got shorter and wider.   I became a symphony of sounds, creaks, gurgles, pops.

Hips taken out, metal put in.

A CVS Pharmacist who knows my name, a pill box with the days of the week marked.


This year I wrote of a young man named Kevin, I wrote of his life, asked questions of his life, did so knowing that at some point soon I would write of his death from cancer as well.


This year one of my best friends on the Bassmaster Elite Tour. Kelly Jordon, came up to me and told me he had cancer, skin cancer. Told me he had cancer only a couple of months after he told me he was about to become a dad for the first time.


I wrote of   a cop busted up on the job, protecting and serving, busted up for life yet fired”¦county policy you know.

I wrote of when hell scars the earth, saw the path hell took in Cullman, Ala., met a young boy, a young family who’s life was strewn through the trees.

I wrote of   floods, worried over Oklahoma fires, listened to my doctor tell me I had cancer.

A year of challenges, health wise, financial wise, mentally wise.

And yet, I’m thankful.

More thankful than ever.

Thankful for Iron Skillets & Flat Scrambled Eggs.

“”¦everybody has a sense of”¦”

I barely knew them, 37 years ago.

Them being Mike and Marlene, my new brother and sister in law.   Liked Marlene, thought Michael, was, you know, different.

I barely knew Barb back then.   Barb my wife.   We were newly everything, new to each other, new to those around us, new to couplehood.

As a present, Mike & Mar gave us an Iron Skillet.   It was the first cooking thing I was ever given in my life.   Pretty much just handed it off to Barb, said thanks, didn’t mean it much.

I gave them a book, I thought they won the present contest.

I was wrong.

As a child I know that now.   Missed it as an adult.

That skillet they gave us, we still use it to this day.   37 years later, I even cook on it.

Turns out, it wasn’t a gift of some kind of cooking thing, it was a showing of faith, trust that Barb and I would love each other for a long, long time.

To me the cast iron on the stove is more a symbol of love, then the diamond on Barb’s finger.

I’m a flat scrambled egg kind of guy, like the diner version done on the grill, all flat like and not puffy, so I went shopping to buy my own cooking thing to make my own flat scrambled eggs.

I bought a cast iron skillet.

A flat one.

Come my first Thanksgiving as a child, I will give thanks for an iron skillet and flat eggs.

Because as an adult, I only saw the sunset.

Because as a child, I now also see the sunrise.   See the faith in the iron, the trust that there are still many new days to come.

What is, thanks.


To be thankful, is to be human.

To be human, is to give thanks back, to the universe.

Thanks, for the trust.

Thanks, for the love.

Thanks, for the sunrise.

Thanks for iron skillets, and flat scrambled eggs.

And for childhood, whenever it may come.

“”¦childlike wonder.”

Sing The Changes

Paul McCartney & Youth

The Firemen

Thank You,