The fourth Thursday of the month of November, annually, is Thanksgiving Day in the U.S. Originally, it was a day to be thankful for a bountiful and successful harvest. Although that remains the rationale for the holiday, in recent years it has become something entirely different and the concept has lost the intended meaning. The religious overtones of the observance have all but disappeared from the national conscious. Given that the day is celebrated nationally and the reality of the diversity of belief systems within this country, that is probably the best.
In case you didn’t notice, I borrowed this title from Mr. William Shakespeare. I don’t think he’ll mind too much, as he’s already famous for his original work. That, and the fact that he’s been dead for centuries. Come to think of it, his work is entitled A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream whereas mine is A Mid-Summer Night’s Fantasy. Similar, yes, but also different. So I received my inspiration for this post from the Bard of Avon, instead of borrowing. I feel somewhat better now.
As a bare practitioner, my worst possible nightmare (horror of horrors) is being forced to wear clothing or a covering at a clothes-free social event. This nocturnal terror is ten times worse than any imagery described in Dante’s Inferno and is comparable to the proverbial “nightmare from hell.” It even surpasses a recurring dream of an unending and repetitive sequence of visits to the dentist.