DANNY TYREE: There’s plenty to be thankful for this Thanksgiving

Please pardon me, but I am always overcome by mawkish sentimentality at this time of year. I cannot contain my gratitude. I am thankful for a paycheck and sunsets and modern plumbing and mobility and rainbows and warm clothing and good friends and conjunctions and …

I am thankful that I can do anything you can do better, I can do anything better than you — except get $%&# show tunes out of my head.

I am thankful for eight-month tick-and-flea collars, because the traumatic monthly sprayings do not promote ideal master/pet relations. (“Believe me, if I had opposable thumbs, I would light the sack on fire myself, buddy.”)

I am thankful that I don’t often get into embarrassing public conversations where I mispronounce misleadingly spelled names (“Erdogan,” “Ghosn,” “Ghislaine,” etc.) that I have encountered only in print. I am thankful that my parents gave me a good, old-fashioned, easy-to-pronounce, meat-and-potatoes name. Although, admittedly, I got a lot of ribbing in school when the teacher called “Ribeye Russet Tyree.”

Speaking of school, I am thankful that I went through the educational system in an unenlightened time when being the “teacher’s pet” didn’t include neutering.

I am thankful that when someone sneezes, I can still wish them a heartfelt “gesundheit,” without being required by law to add “press 2 if you wish to hear ‘gesundheit’ in Spanish.”

I am thankful that I am savvy enough not to leap at extended warranties. Okay, obviously, I got the one on “temporary insanity,” but that’s it.

I am thankful that I have survived this long without being remotely proficient at tying knots. (“There, that boat’s not going anywhere — unless it gets repossessed to pay for all the duct tape.”)

I am thankful that only God can make a tree, because one made by committee/focus group would be a disaster. (“Bark? Bark? Are we trying to get confused with a kennel? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say … oh, wait, that reminds me, limbs are so last year …”)

I am thankful that I can usually purchase my size 14 shoes without clerks wagering on how many clowns will cram back into the car.

I am thankful that I get a percentage of the gate when my good gut bacteria and bad gut bacteria have a mixed martial arts showdown.

I am thankful for Google Earth, because when I was watching “Bewitched” as a tyke, my recurring thought was always, “Forget jetpacks. I hope someday everyone in the world will get to be Gladys Kravitz.”

I am thankful that I have somehow resisted the siren call of cryptocurrency. Granted, the Sirens in Greek mythology had a call more melodic than “Hey, doofus, over there — wanna get rich quick?”

I am thankful that humans don’t hibernate because “The best part of waking up is Folgers in your barrel” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

I am thankful for the thoughts and prayers of friends and acquaintances, even in an era when thoughts and prayers are not in high regard. (“Just heard that you’re laid up with a bad back. Well, we’re going to pass some emergency legislation banning bad backs. Perhaps you’d like to contribute …”)

Mostly, I’m thankful I can keep in touch with my valued readers via Twitter (@TyreeDanny) and Truth Social (@tyreetyrades).

Don’t be a stranger. Especially not some enchanted evening … Aaarrrggghhh!