My Thanksgiving

With some trepidation I cross the border to St. Paul. There's the usual suspects, and hugs all around.

Aunt June spies me through the crowd and saunters over. "Hiya Gene. I brought your favorite. Seven-layer salad!"

"Jeez, thanks June. Did you put it in that deep bowl, so I can only get the top three layers?"

She laughs. "Heyah Gene, you bet. Just like you like it! How's life? How's work going at that Goldman Jaffray place?"

I clear my throat. "It's Piper Jaffray. I'm a senior analyst now. I've been there twelve years."

Now Uncle Ed edges over. "You still doing that financial stuff?"

"Yep." I nod. Suddenly I need Fran's wine. Wait. I don't drink. Dang.

"Gene, you ever watch that Mad Money show? How come you don't have your own show like that Cramer guy? Is he great -- or what?"

Argh. "Yeah. We worship the guy over at Piper."

They frown in unison. That's what happens to people who've been married 40 years, I mean, it's almost scary. Anyway, Ed tries to slap me on the back, but he misses and hits my shoulder instead. "Gene, I'm just kidding, you know that. Heyah, I saw the skunk about you in Pioneer Press. The Apple thing. Don't they make computers? Boy you're on thin ice there Gene. That stock is spendy."

"It's going to $250."

June and Ed laugh. "Yah. Yah. You're a good boy Gene . . ."

But later I bring out the iPod Touch. It's good. Often I forget that most of the world hasn't seen this technology yet, and the crowd oohs and ahs as I show them cover flow, photos, and a couple videos. They are amazed at how thin it is, and then they are wowed by the touch screen. They all want to play with it. And it totally trumps Althea's show and tell, which is her new heated foot massage machine. By the end of the demo I've sold at least four Apple products. Poor Althea has to concede defeat.

Hope you all had a productive holiday like mine . . . .