About Thanksgiving and Russian Hindquarters

Post 475:

            Maybe it’s just the Thanksgiving story that plays in my head, but it goes something like this: Everyone, Native or Pilgrim, young or old, bright or a little off—they were all at the table, rocking the whatever they ate back in ye good ol’ days. Convivial was the mood. Hearty was the food. I can’t keep rhyming. It’s too much.

            So maybe it didn’t go like this. According to Expert Von Gripes, the whole thing never happened even close to the story in my head, the one that’s been passed down through the ages. Von Gripes says something about an axe and some arrows and white people in funny white britches getting so mad their stupid hats fell off.

            Nah. I’m going with story numero uno. Why? Because I like the holiday. A time when everyone’s in the circle. No hierarchy. This doesn’t apply in our daily lives. There’s always a circle. And then once you’ve wormed your way into that circle, there’s another circle. It’s the perpetual game of exclude/include. If you don’t believe me, read War and Peace, or just huff in a dose of reality.

            Thanksgiving is about telling Tolstoy to stick it up his Russian hindquarters, at least for a day. No enmities. No I’m in and you’re out. We’re all sitting here—nobody’s better than anyone else.

            That’s why Thanksgiving is about the only true holiday left.

            Let’s go over the objections. No, not Von Gripes’ objections. All the others. One might say that I’m talking in happy theories. One might say I’m being a little too idealistic about the spirit of the holiday.

            One is an idiot. Holiday spirit is a thing nobody has ever accused me of. I mean that in all seriousness. Ask all the people.

            Okay, of course the hierarchies don’t disappear. It’s not lost on me. For a few hours, though, it all just sort of drifts into the background. And… there’s a reason for those circles I was talking about earlier. They serve a purpose out in the big ugly world. Groups and structures. It’s how things run on all the other days.

            Not at Thanksgiving, though. Turkey and stuffing, baby. Looking around, realizing that everyone is just as nuts as you are. That’s where the love is. Feel it. Eat too much. All together now!

            Cheers and see you after.