Well, it’s that time again – oh, sweet turkey day. The third Thursday of November. Plus the Friday off, unless you work for Kathie Lee Gifford. Day of family, food, and giving thanks for all that we have.
Giving thanks for all we have. Funny, for a holiday that in a way celebrates taking stuff from some half-naked native Americans. Think about it. All those settlers weren’t happy with what they had, so they came here and took stuff from the red man.
I mean, this time of year, they gloss over the fact that these folks showed up and “discovered” all this “new world” stuff. The land, the trees, everything. PUH-leeese. Like Chris Rock once said, it’s like some group of people showing up and “discovering” your house, while you still live there. Hello! I’m standing right here. You didn’t discover anything!
Then, to make matters worse, these random people move into your living room, but you’re nice about it. You even let them hold the remote. Then they take over your bathroom, and your kitchen, and the next thing you know, you and your whole family are living in your linen closet, buck nekkid. But on the upside, they let you sell cigarettes and gas at discounted prices, and if you’re really good, they’ll even let you open a casino in there.
But no, no one remembers THAT this time of year. All they remember is turkey, and corn (the white man’s name – the Native Americans name is “Maize.”), and the horn o’plenty. Pilgrim and Indian, hand-in-hand, buddies. Pssht! I even remember asking about it in school once.
“If the Pilgrims and Indians were friends, why did the Indians scalp them?”
“Uhm…those were different Indians.”
Yeah.
Speaking of which, how dumb were these people? They showed up YEARS after the world had figured out that the people here in America WERE NOT INDIANS. They were Apache, and Cherokee, and Iroquois, and a number of other names we’ve long since forgotten, except for car names and sports teams. But nope, for another 400 years, we’d keep calling them that.
But I digress. Back to Thanksgiving.
There’s no horn o’plenty anymore, unless you count creepy uncle Ned grabbing your leg under the table. Nope, now it’s all about a parade, and some football games, stuffing our faces, and falling asleep on the couch at 5:30. Which, isn’t really a bad thing. But instead of giving thanks for what we already have – family, friends, love, and 137 channels of cable – all we’re doing is thinking about what we want under the tree a month from now. Don’t shake your head at me. You know it’s true. How many people already have your gift wish list? And how many do you have to work from?
And then there’s just the awkwardness, especially if you’re home from school, or brought a boyfriend or girlfriend home. What’s that thing in your ear? What did you do to your hair? Is that a tattoo? Come over here and give Aunt Bernice a kiss on the lips. I hope you’re changing your clothes for dinner. Ugh.
And of course, there’s the eternal quest for the moist turkey. Oh, give it up. You know what they call moist turkey? CHICKEN.
But Thanksgiving lives on, and will continue to do so. You know the drill. The extended family comes over, and they take over your living room. But you’re nice. You even let them hold the remote. Then one of their kids stops up the toilet. And your mom tries to take over the kitchen. And next thing you know, you’re hiding in your linen closet, craving a cigarette.
Guess some things never change.
That’s the rant.
