That's not til NEXT month...
Be Thankful You're Not Having Eel Pies
|"WHAT!? Where's the deviled eggs, you savage?"|
NOTE: This is a repost. Basically, it's a warmed over Thanksgiving feast. If you haven't read it already, though, it's new to you. If you have read it, this makes me sad.
Not really. If you have read it already, but can't remember that you did, congratulations. The Republican Party has a spot for you.
NOTE FOLLOWING THE NOTE: This is kind of a long post. But, you can come back to it during the week. It's a lot like coming back to graze on Thanksgiving leftovers. Except this won't get all gamey after a few days. It already stinks.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.
NOTE: This is true. Although Presidents Day lets me wear a powdered wig. And make fun of the British.
It’s the first of the year-end celebrations, the others being Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Years. And, by New Years, I mean New Years Eve. January 1st is really only meant for watching college football and making resolutions to not act like a jackass at the next New Years Eve party.
Party like it's 25 Kislev.
NOTE: Occurring as it does on the Jewish date 25 Kislev (yeah, I know.
All that said, it’s really the 4th Thursday of November which gets the festivities rolling (hey, it’s easier than trying to figure out when the frik Easter is. Something to do with the moon. Or devout rabbits. Something).
After all, what evokes the holiday spirit more than getting trampled at Wal-Mart by frenzied harpies in bathrobes and curlers on Black Friday?
NOTE: Or, now, on Thanksgiving Night, with drunken harpies in curlers.
|Thanksgiving was proclaimed a federal holiday|
in 1863 by Abraham Lincoln.
Not surprisingly, the Confederacy said,
"Ya'll can take your Yankee Holiday and shove it."
Which sucked. Because they
were supposed to bring the sweet potato souffle.
Oh, sure, even though there are parades, football games, and enough food to sink the Mayflower, Thanksgiving is thankfully (pardon the pun) devoid of the commercialism of Christmas and the bacchanalian excess of New Year’s Eve. Or, if you were paying attention, whatever it is they do on Hanukkah.
|On December 26, 1941, signed a resolution|
from the last Thursday in November to the fourth.
"Hey, get off my ass, it's all I had time to do.
There's a frikkin' war going on, you know."
No, it’s a calming prelude to the mania which paralyzes every December. It’s a time to appreciate what we’ve been given.
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.
|"Hey, does anyone else|
have to pee after that long ass boat ride?"
So it was in 1621 that Governor Bradford of Plymouth Colony thought it was high time to celebrate a day of thanksgiving.
|"I know. Whaddya say we have a harvest feast right here?"|
"Outside!? You do know this is Massachusetts, don't you?"
"Hey, we can stay warm by burning a witch or two."
Luckily, a spot opened up the last Thursday of November when “Mohawks On Ice!” was forced to close after some Hurons stole their loincloths. So, the Native Europeans invited their friends, the Native Americans, to a grand feast at the local Elks Lodge picnic pavilion (with real elk).
A deeply devout people, the Pilgrims wished to thank the “Godless heathen savages” for all their help getting the colony on its feet. After all, the tribe was essential to gaining a foothold in the New World, long before the Trail of Tears, Wounded Knee, and all-you-can-eat casino buffets.
|"Behold, for I bring you the gift of maize.|
As long as you don't mind the smell of dead fish."
Prior to that, they just stuck them in their trousers.
|"Seriously, Sleeps With Chickens? Eels??|
Couldn't bring a French Bean casserole
like a normal person, could ya?"
Many customs today hearken back to this coming together: the feast, the fellowship, the two-hand touch lacrosse game after supper, and the men falling asleep in front of the fire with their hands down their pants while the women cleaned up all laid the foundation of our nation.
Happily, it was the giving of thanks which has endured through peace, war, and disco. No doubt Governor Bradford himself began a tradition which survives to this day: putting relatives on the spot to state that for which they were thankful.
In homes across the nation, this scene will be played out anew during halftime. In the true spirit of the holiday, millions of family members will likewise be grilled.
This year, though, in addition to joyful thanks for family, friends, and the feelings of warmth which come from both, one will resonate above all:
That Great-Aunt Mildred was able to buy the last case of Twinkies from that guy in the back of his van at the Stop N Shop.
Because the alternative was Eel Pies.
And I don’t care how much Cool Whip you put on them, they’re still eels.
And...Robyn and Julie (and whomever I missed)...HAPPY HANUKKAH!
|"I see that you mentioned 'Eight Crazy Nights.' |
So, we should be expecting a check to cover the royalties?"