"Oh God, please don't let it be Trivial Pursuit," I thought to myself when my sister suggested we all play a game. Milling around the dessert table, stuffed to the gills, Trivial Pursuit would be the inevitable undoing of an otherwise perfect Thanksgiving. (Note to self, when stuffed with turkey and trimmings, and all the desserts look equally appealing, back away from the tray).

There's an old adage in my family; if Mom is present, don't play Trivial Pursuit - or any game for that matter. You see, there is a streak of competitiveness coursing through my family's veins that borders on psychotic. My family and board games do not mix. And right in the center of every "incidence" down through the years is the matriarch herself, dear old Mother.  

Follow me below for "An O'Reilly Thanksgiving."

There comes a time in a Kossack's life when he or she must step up to the plate and, pen in hand, engage the enemy. Except in this case, it isn't the enemy, at least it isn't supposed to be, and we both want the same things. We just have very different ideas about how to get there.

I live just outside of Brunswick, Maine, a small coastal town maybe 30 miles north of Portland (Hi Bill!). It's a great area to live - people are friendly, mostly liberal, and can be counted on to support Democratic candidates and issues by about 2 to 1. There is a very progressive, very vocal, and very active group in our area, the Maine Coalition for Peace and Justice, known locally as "Greater Brunswick PeaceWorks." Some of the people in this group I only know of through their activism and their writings. Some are aquaintances, and some are my friends. If I run into one of them around town, there's the usual, "oh, you've got to come to one of our meetings!" and the obligatory exchange of e-mail addresses. I'm always promising to show up and "check it out," but I never seem to be able to make it. The truth is, we just don't see eye-to-eye.

Join me "fighting for Tom Allen" below the fold...