Thanksgiving

I look forward to the day of thanks like pedophiles look forward to the first day of school. I am gluttonous and ravenous and prime myself for the day. I always eat an early breakfast, drink water and try to excrete fully before the call of “it’s ready” comes from the kitchen. In Texas, we have Thanksgiving on Friday so we can watch the UT-A&M football game. It’s odd because everyone on the TV tells us that its turkey day, but I know it’s not. We watch the Cowboys and Lions and Longhorns, but we know our day isn’t until tomorrow. I wait patiently and stuff myself. After the initial fear of puking from overeating passes and I begin to digest, the realization that 364 days of longing has passed and the holiday season has begun settles in to my gorged brain. It is a purely American holiday. It is secular and not based on love. It is a family and friend based celebration. We, who can, eat all that we can. Those on a diet curse their body and those skinny few with high metabolism. The most fascinating part of the day is the traditions and foods that are on our table were probably not similar to the Pilgrims. It’s almost like we created a holiday based on true events but situated to be palatable to American tastes. The Natives gave the poor Pilgrims gifts and they ate together sharing each other’s good humor and feasting on the bountiful harvest. Shouldn’t we then bring food to the less fortunate and eat with them? It would change the meaning of Thanksgiving greatly. The banquet has become such a selfish occasion that most of us couldn’t possibly imagine spending the day away from our couches and dining room tables to spend the day with the unfortunate ones without associates. I know it would be hard for me, but I think it’s something I’d like to try. It would be an easy thing to do it on Thursday and then have our Friday buffet to continue our familial traditions. Let’s take the next year to think if that’s something we’d like to do and give thanks for our blessings, of which there are many.

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