This is Day 1 of a 21-day effort to see the good in what might, at first, look like an irredeemable drag. Its name comes from a classic bit of dialogue uttered by actor Kevin Bacon in the comedy classic of my generation, Animal House.
It's easy to be grateful when a pride of angels swoop down from the heavens and spoon-feed you chocolate pudding to the sound of winning lottery numbers sung in four-part harmony.
It is somewhat less easy when they do a fly by and take a collective crap on your head after an all-night angel pizza party.
But this is when we should try the hardest to cultivate a sense of gratitude, in mid-curse, reaching for the baby wipes. Not thanks for the poop, but for everything else around it: the two legs that hold us up as we walk down the street, putting us in the line of fire. Or the wheelchair, or the cart, or just the air in your lungs that's making you+day possible.
Plus, let's face it, it's those really nasty times that, in hindsight, bring with them the greatest lessons, and often, the greatest attendant gifts.
So for the next 21 days, as we ramp up for that holiest of holidays (non-U.S. readers, please play along), I'm going to be grateful for the crap: some that I know of; some whose magical beneficence remains to be seen.
Feel free to play along in the comments, or consider yourselves tagged to take it elsewhere. Or not. Maybe just read and think. Think about what good came out of the bad. Think about what crumbs, or nuggets...or, hell, vast washes of excellence still surround you.
Yes, there is much suckage. Yes, we must continue to fight the good fight. But how much better armed will we be with some fortifying gratitude?
A lot, I hope...