November is my month of thanks from Mike Shannon to Hogan’s Heroes

November is the official month to reflect and say, “Thanks.”

Think hard.

Put politics aside.

Even in 2020, there is much to be thankful for, and here’s my list:

• Family. Health. Safety. You are blessed if all three are intact.
• Hot carryout food. It’s a feeling of great accomplishment when you arrive home and your carryout food order is correct and the French fries are hot and crisp.
• March 14, 2021. Daylight Saving Time returns. I have had enough already. Let’s spring forward now.
• Willie McGee. I am glad he is coming back as a Cardinals coach in 2021.
• Alex Pietrangelo. I’ll never forget June 12, 2019, when he became the first Blues player ever to hold the Stanley Cup.
• Making plans. Those rare moments when I symbolically have an umbrella in hand when I hear thunder in the distance.
• Sense of purpose. I wake up. Things to do. People to meet. Decisions to make. Goals to set. People depend on me, and I depend on them.
• Military veterans. Find them. Give them an elbow bump. Celebrate and thank them on Veterans Day.
• The Greatest Generation. Our parents, grandparents. They allowed me to grow up in the greatest era ever to be a kid. We had little, but we had it all.
• Mike Shannon. We said goodbye to Lou and Gibby this year. The Moon Man is a local icon. I’ll listen to baseball games on the radio to hear his unique stories and style.
• Underdogs. Pee Wee at the free throw line. The chubby kid in right field.
• Sincerity. People who look me in the eyes and listen.
• Tradition. The birds on the bat — one of the best logos in sports.
  
  
• Old-fashioned, hand-written “Thank you” notes. With a stamp, delivered to my home mailbox.
• Old-fashioned kindness. Please. Thank you. Welcome. Hold the door open. Readers who don’t really like what I write but don’t write letters or e-mails telling me so. People who refrain from bringing up politics in conversations or social media.
• Special moments of encouragement. Like when I make a rare but good golf shot and somebody witnesses it because no one would believe me. Seems like everyone sees the bad shots.
• Baseball trade rumors. I enjoy following them in winter almost as much as I enjoy watching the games in spring, summer and fall.
• Belly laughs. The old-fashioned kind. Like when I was a kid and someone made a funny noise in church. The kind of deep laugh that bring tears to my eyes and make me bend over and become short of breath.
• John Prine. I am glad I saw his last show in St. Louis at the Stifel Theatre. He left a legacy of great music and lyrics to remember him.
• Siri. For giving me clear directions in my car. And looking up all the useless information that I ask her about that I’m too lazy to look up myself.
• Waitresses who call me, “Hon.” There is something old-fashioned about it.
• Steak ‘n Shake canned chili. With a peanut butter sandwich. Just like they used to serve in the old St. Philip’s School cafeteria.
• Hogan’s Heroes. I watched a lot of the reruns since March in the bubble. The show was ahead of the times.
• Video conferences. Zoom. Teams. They keep me in touch with co-workers and reality.
• Peanut butter M&Ms. Bet you can’t eat just one handful.
• Memory. Close my eyes and remember. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.
• Imagination. Close my eyes and wander. It’s my second favorite pastimes.
• People who say, “Thanks.” And they mean it.