Once again we are quickly approaching that time of year when
we are inundated with an abundance of spare time on our hands because of
holidays.
We just finished with Labor Day, Armistice Day, and are
looking Thanksgiving Day in the immediate days.
Unlike Christmas, this is a secular celebration meaning that people of
all religions can get into the celebration mode and fight and argue like us
Christians.
Thanksgiving Day was established so that we, as both a
society and individually, could take time to reflect on our lives and give
thanks for all we have.
That day, we are expected to gather as a family and grin and
smile and nod to one another as we overlook Aunt Edith’s false teeth lying next
to the sweet potatoes during the Thanksgiving dinner, or Dad’s ability to belch
during the quietest moments of the meal.
We are also expected to watch football on television. For our
international readers, that is not soccer. We are expected to see the Detroit Lions win;
they won’t.
No, the turkey will be especially dry because Mom wants it
to be “safe” so, she leaves it in the oven for an extra hour, or so.
Gravy will be lumpy, the green bean salad will be gone
first, the sweet potatoes with those little marshmallows will be overly sweet,
and the mashed potatoes will be cold.
All those pumpkin pies will be store bought, and the coffee
will be bitter from sitting so long. No
one drinks coffee on Thanksgiving Day.
Rather, we rise in the morning to rattling pans and spoons
and join the rest of the family for Bloody Marys during the Macy’s Thanksgiving
Day Parade. In fact, that is no longer a
parade but has turned into three hours of ads with a few marching bands
sprinkled therein.
By the time the Santa float arrives, we have switched to
beer and are ready for discussions about how poorly our favorite football teams
are performing. We’re still not talking about soccer.
Eventually, those discussions become louder until it is time
to eat.
Dad carves the turkey with everyone oohing and ahhing adding
comments about how great everything looks.
At this point, we’re all so hungry we could devour broken glass soaked
in used motor oil. But, we are forced to
tell the others what we are thankful for.
By the way, I’m thankful for not contracting the Ebola
virus.
It isn’t long before all that preparing, cooking, ironing
table cloths, and polishing flatware has come to an end. The guys are tired as the tryptophan and
booze kicks in. Those who have a greater
tolerance will likely start arguing about something – anything – and still be
doing so while the police arrive.
Folks eventually leave, some of whom will return for
Sunday’s meal, a few will not be seen until next year, others will disappear
until their bail is paid.
In any case, think about what you can give thanks for. And don’t argue.
