Thanksgiving is the most American of holidays.  It is rooted in our founding myths, in the struggle of European immigrants to understand and survive in a new land.  In the triumph of perseverance and neighborly virtue over the harshness of the world we find ourselves in.  We gather together with family and friends and eat new world foods to celebrate the survival of our founding settlers and the most beautiful time of the year for much of our country.

This is my third Thanksgiving in America since spending the prior five Thanksgivings in England.  Living there gave me a much greater appreciation of what it means to be an American, to have rights, and to fight for those rights.  I am immensely thankful that I am an American and that we have rights for me to defend.

On January 20th, 2009 America's new President will face a new era of foreign policy with challenges and options different than those faced by prior administrations.  Many of these new challenges have been brewing for decades, but most were created or exacerbated by mistakes made since the turn of the century.

When I first moved to England in October 2000, I would get some good natured ribbing about how we were "Late for the War," or "McDonald's and Disney imperialism."  There were frustrations about how we conducted ourselves internationally, but overall people were favorably inclined towards America.  Many still felt that they owed America a debt of gratitude for the actions of our Greatest Generation in WWII.

According to today's Guardian, the names of all of the prisoners who are, or have been, at the Guantamino Bay prison:

The US government has released its first official list  of detainees at the Guantánamo Bay prison camp.

The list of 558 people comprises three-quarters of the total number of detainees who have passed through the camp, which was set up in 2002 after the end of the war in Afghanistan.

Well, finally the world is allowed to know who we captured, and likely are abusing and torturing.  Their families can know that they are alive, but have to worry it this is better or not.

So, who is it we are holding in Guantamino Bay Prison?

The time has finally come for me to say goodbye to old Blighty and return to America.  So many of my European friends ask me if it feels good to be going home.  I'm not sure, in more ways than one I am not going home.  I wonder if it is ever possible to go back.

For almost five years home has been a small, but ancient city known as York.  Pronounced as "Yoarwk" by the locals, the train announcers, and people like me who are tired of people assuming I live somewhere a little newer.  Today my bags are packed and I have left on a jet plane.  When I land I will be heading to my new home in Philly, a city I have thus far spent about 24 hours in, and have never lived closer than three time zones away.