Several years ago on the cover of The Saturday Evening Post, there was a painting by Norman Rockwell showing a woman buying her Thanksgiving turkey. The turkey was lying on the scales, and the butcher was standing back of the counter, apron pulled tight over his fat stomach, a pencil tucked behind his ear. The customer, a lovely lady of about 60, stood watching the weighing in. Each of them had a pleased look as if each knew a secret joke. There’s nothing unusual about a butcher and a customer watching as a turkey is being weighed. The expression on their faces indicated that something unusual was going on. Norman Rockwell lets us in on the joke by showing us their hands. The butcher is pushing down on the scales with a big, fat thumb. The woman is pushing up on them with a dainty fore-fin…