|Anyone else have to pee after that long-ass boat ride?|
The brightly colored leaves swirling madly amongst the trees, a chill autumn wind blowing briskly over freshly-harvested fields, and the forest animals bustling crazily about in preparation for winter (NOTE: No money wasted on that Creative Writing correspondence course, huh?).
And nobody fighting over the remote.
So it was in 1621 that Governor Bradford of Plimouth (that’s how they spelled it back then, smart guy) Colony thought it was high time to celebrate a day of thanksgiving.
Frantically scurrying to find a suitable venue at which to hold their celebration, the Pilgrim fathers were disappointed to learn they were too late; all the good days in October and early November had been reserved months ago for the Pequot/Schwartz wedding reception, the Jamestown “We Were First” Commemoration, and the last of the Mohican family reunions.
And, wouldn’t you know it, those smarty-pants Canadians with their hockey and wool hats decided to have their own harvest celebration on Columbus Day weekend. This, despite a fierce ad campaign by the “Sons of the Santa Maria” fraternal organization.
Luckily, a spot opened up the last Thursday of November when “Mohawks On Ice!” was forced to close after some rogue Hurons stole their loincloths. So, the Native Europeans invited their friends, the Native Americans, to a grand feast held at the local Moose lodge picnic pavilion (with real moose. Or, would that be ‘mooses?’ Or ‘meese?’ Sheesh. English).
|Seriously, people, it's not that hard. |
More than one deer is 'deer.' More than one moose is 'moose.'
Now, can anyone tell me why this dude in the orange vest is butt-pumping me?
A grateful people, the Pilgrims wished to thank the “heathen savages” for all their help getting the colony on its feet. After all, the tribe was essential to their gaining a foothold in the New World, long before the Trail of Tears, Wounded Knee, and all-you-can-eat casino buffets.
|"Eels, Sleeps With Raccoons? Really?|
Couldn't just make a simple green bean casserole
like a normal person, could you?"
Prior to that, they just stuck them in their trousers.
Plus, the tribe brought the eel pies. Hmmmmmm....eel.
|After dinner, Mrs. Baker's 2nd grade class |
handed out smallpox-riddled blankets to
their unfortunate classmates dressed as Indians.
Many customs today hearken back to this coming together of disparate peoples. The feast, the fellowship, two-hand touch game of lacrosse after supper, and everyone falling asleep in front of the fire while the women cleaned up all laid the foundation of that which identifies us as a nation.
|And just for that, no Thanksgiving. |
Or the Super Bowl, NASCAR, and the X-Factor.
What, you people started that? Nuts!
But, American Idol is ours. Crap, that's yours, too?
All right, then, we'll take The Office.
Luckily, some aspects of that first thanksgiving have not survived. For instance, few people realize that, while turkey was indeed one of the dishes, the main course consisted primarily of venison, cod, squirrels, and SPAM.
And, as much fun as scalping captive fur trappers from New France was, I don’t think it would go over that big today. Then again, they were French.
|Thankful he only lasted four years|
To be concluded...
Next: We give thanks. Mostly, thank God this post is almost over.