THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: Preaching a little more quietly now, though the message remains the same

Go ahead and call this corny.

Fine.

You should have been around when my Thanksgiving message was delivered with the fervor of a tent preacher kicking up sawdust on some dirt floor.

Imagine me hollering about this holiday, bursting with the enthusiasm of “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show” (full credit to Neil Diamond).

Oh, yeah, folks.

Back in the day, this weekend called for a rant.

If you could adjust the volume on printed words, my columns about Thanksgiving would have worked with the famous phrase attributed to the Grateful Dead: “Take it to Eleven!”

Now, some of you gracefully aging Deadheads will pound out emails to argue that the use of the number 11 was NOT about volume. 

It actually referred to a Dead song called “The Eleven,” and yep, I get you.

(I’d also be thrilled to hear from Bill Walton in Hawaii.) 

OK, if you aren’t totally puzzled with all this old music conversation, here’s the final item.

The Grateful Dead only performed “The Eleven” on a few occasions in concerts because — according to Jerry Garcia himself — the song was done in an unusual 11/8 time, so it was difficult to play, and thus: “It was just no fun to practice.”

Thanks in advance to all you music junkies for relaying that information ... but I was really and truly going for LOUD back in my early Thanksgiving messages.

Let’s just call them: “Steve at 11.”

SO, NOW how can we snatch hold of today’s chat from the Grateful Dead (assuming you don’t mind), and move on to something corny but meaningful?

Simple.

This is a sports column, after all, so we’ll start with football.

In fact, my messianic shouts from the early days started with football — so we’re on the perfect path.

Even if I might have been yelling a bit like Brother Love back then, and I’ve now become older and gentler, the heart of this message remains the same.

Call this crazy if you must, but I don’t watch any sports on Thanksgiving.

Even though I’d never try to bully you or anyone else into abandoning your way of life, I honestly think we all might gain something by sticking to the original meaning of Thanksgiving — and resisting the urge to get lost in the Seahawks and 49ers tonight.

I know.

You just muttered: “Whaaaat?”

Please hear me out, even if you now want to play some Neil Diamond or Grateful Dead in the background — and get yourself ready for the Hawks’ last reasonable chance to stamp themselves as a true NFL contender.

I’m wrestling with the fact that seeing and forming opinions about the Seahawks is my job — so I might have to peek at a screen from time to time.

Believe it or not, though, this is only the second time I’ve been covering a team that’s played on Thanksgiving.

The other one was Green Bay, and that was simply because I’d been hired to write a book about the Packers’ first 75 years.

I only watched about 15 minutes that day.

YOU MAY be asking why a lifetime sports journalist would be boycotting football on Thanksgiving.

It goes back a long way.

For quite some time, I soaked up sports on the holidays like most of you.

But then, one Thanksgiving, I was invited to a fairly good-sized party.

I brought a date who knew most of the people who would be there, and assumed it would be a comfortable afternoon and evening.

After a couple of hours, though, it dawned on me that I hadn’t been talking to my date.

And no wonder.

Every single male in the place was in the living room, watching one of two football games that were on separate TV screens.

The women were all in the kitchen or dining room, preparing the meal and chatting away.

There was ZERO interaction.

Somehow, that one event convinced me that the idea was all wrong.

Weren’t we all (together) present for this special holiday, to give thanks for the bounty of living a true First World existence — especially when there are billions of people living in poverty across the world?

It was a life-changing day.

Now, I keep Thanksgiving for thanks.

Not for first downs.

I can see highlights of what I missed on Black Friday, since I won’t step out of the house into that madness that day for love nor money.

Plenty of time for football, even recorded.

Yep, to each his own.

Fair enough.

But on Thanksgiving, I don’t want to miss out on the important people in my life — just to watch the Detroit Lions.

Or ANY lions.

Have a blessed and wonderful day, all.

Email: [email protected]

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press four times each week, normally Tuesday through Friday unless, you know, stuff happens.

Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”

Grateful, thankful, blessed.