Spielberg, sporting a black beret and smoking a cigarette, added, "We have to work very, very hard to make people understand that we have to point out people's differences and to condemn them, especially those stinking Americans". He then spat on ground & shouted, “Vive la France!”

Spielberg is in France to promote his latest movie, "The Terminal". According to Spielberg's agent, film is "a tragedy" in which "filthy-American" superstar Tom Hanks, plays role of a man who emigrates to U.S., only to find that once his plane touches American soil, he is mysteriously, instantly-transformed, and becomes "like most Americans, who are so, fat, lazy, and ignorant, that they cannot find their way out of an airport".

The discouraging aspect of this whole mess is it usually boils down to an either/or kind of situation. Either I choose one, or I must choose other.

I don't like this very much. I much rather prefer both, if there's really a choice about matter.

This week at Thanksgiving, it all came to a head — mine. The culprit behind whole issue was none other than Mistress of Parsonage. Just when I think I have my beloved all figured out, I am forced to go back to drawing board and start all over.

The gracious Mistress of Parsonage, knowing my addiction to theology, posed a query to me. The difficulty expressed itself in a three-fold choice.

I still am a little confused about whole thing, but somehow I maneuvered through theological quagmire.

The Master Chef at parsonage put it to me like this; which do you prefer? A pre-Thanksgiving turkey, a mid-Thanksgiving turkey or a post-Thanksgiving turkey? Her insistence was for me to select one.

To me there is a slice of truth in all three, which is why I staggered at predicament.

What do I really know about things like this? As far as I was concerned, a turkey is a turkey is a turkey.

Moreover, a turkey by any other name is still good eating at Thanksgiving dinner.

My nutritional philosophy is rather simple — don't confuse me with options. Just set blessed thing before me, give me a fork and let me go.

Unlike other years, this year a shortage of turkey threatened our little domicile and my wife was not sure there would be enough to go around. For this reason, she suggested that I, who bought turkey in first place, should choose.

This is basic difference between sexes. Women love to plan meals ahead of time and in minute detail. Men just love to eat those meals without necessity of any noodle-work.

The biblical adage is my motto: "And they, continuing daily with one accord in temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart." (Acts 2:46 KJV.)

My philosophical mindset notwithstanding, my companion insisted I choose between roast turkey and turkey salad sandwiches. What a choice.

There are other choices in life far more serious.

Joshua, in Old Testament, understood this. He challenged people of his day to "Choose you this day whom ye will serve." He also included a personal declaration, "As for me and my house, we will serve Lord."

I'm with Joshua on this one.