Ghost Town

The day before Thanksgiving and the parking lot where I work is a ghost town, replete with honest-to-goodness tumbleweeds blowing hither and yon. What is normally a bustling, packed house, is down to barest bones. For me, like many others, Thursday and Friday of this week are holidays, and thus the next four days amount to one of the longer breaks from work that most folks will get to enjoy. Many have bugged out for travel or just decided to get a head start on the time away. Up and down my hallway, the doors are closed and all of my usual Wednesday meetings are cancelled. If you have ever seen the chilling 1971 film The Andromeda Strain, that provides a good basis for the feel around this place. What just a short time ago was bustling with people, with activity, is suddenly wholly and oddly quiet. Yet what contributes to the eeriness more than anything for me is the following Peanuts cartoon that I stumbled across recently. Does this mean that Woodstock is an avian cannibal? Is it possible, and I do hope so with all of my being, that the bird depicted is actually a tofurkey?