With Thanksgiving nearly upon us in the United States, it behooves us to remember things for which we should have gratitude. Gratitude is the best cure for many social and emotional illnesses, which is one reason it is so despised by people who hate America.
So first, I'm grateful that socialism was pushed further away from the body politic by the results of our last election.
Closer to home, I'm grateful that the early snowstorm we had last week is a melted memory now. As it turned out, on our block we missed having long-term issues by a matter of inches.
The local utility company is pretty good about getting out there when the sun is warm, taking down branches that will fall on power lines when the weather turns cold. But when the problem is a tree more than a dozen feet into someone's property, I don't think they have the authority to go tree-cutting. When our early storm hit, some trees still had leaves, weighing down the limbs, which subsequently fell off. And in one case, an elderly tree was entirely weighed down.
Timber!!!
As you can see, it landed a ways over the curb, into the street. The homeowner has yet to chop it up; he may be pricing the job out. Fortunately it did not go far out enough into the street to be a danger to traffic.
Even more fortunately, it literally missed the power lines by inches.
It looks like the tiny upper branches probably brushed the lines as the whole thing came down. If it had been just a little taller, lights out.
We came close to having a bunch of houses without energy as Thanksgiving approached, with a problem that couldn't be resolved until the downed tree was completely removed.
So I'm grateful for electricity and the genius of those who learned how to harness it for the benefit of humanity and civilization. And I'm grateful that the weather did not result in a local cut of electricity. And I'm grateful too that Communism has not taken over our country, because in many ways that means all the lights go out.
Sorry I've been away from the blog. Let's get caught up, shall we?
For those of you concerned that I was eaten by the black bear that's been hanging around -- no, it did not happen. His doctor probably warned him I was bad for his cholesterol. No new bear sightings, not since this trash can raid on October 29. Well, it was either the bear or the raccoons are getting organized.
I was and am grateful for the results of the elections last Tuesday, although as usual New York boned up. Ludicrous nonentity Kirsten Gillibrand returns to the Senate to be Chuck Schumer's flunky. And the state assembly has pulled a fast one, getting a proposition past the voters that will open the door to all kinds of shenanigans. This is what people who did not do their homework saw on the ballot:
Abstract of Proposal Number One, An Amendment
Amendment to Protect Against Unequal Treatment
This proposal amends Article 1, Section 11 of the New York Constitution. Section 11 now protects against unequal treatment based on race, color, creed, and religion. The proposal will amend the act to also protect against unequal treatment based on ethnicity, national origin, age, disability, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, pregnancy, and pregnancy outcomes, as well as reproductive healthcare and autonomy. The amendment allows laws to prevent or undo past discrimination.
It passed because New Yorkers are dumb and don't read, and they saw nice words like protect and against unequal and autonomy said all right. Okay, well, who isn't in favor of protecting against unequal treatment, right? It was sold as a means of protecting abortion, which former gubernatorial candidate John Faso accurately explained was horse hockey in the Albany paper.
Of course, what this will actually mean is, first off, boys will be walloping girls in girls' sports. But that's just the beginning. It also undermines parental authority, in opposition to existing state law. When the state takes a 10-year-old away from his parents because he wants to get his willie chopped off and be a girl and they don't want him to do that, maybe someone will point out to those parents that they should not have voted this way.
It is literally the only proposition on a ballot I have ever seen that the archdiocese and every priest in it begged parishioners not to support. Oh, well. Vote in haste, cry your eyes out the rest of your life.
But the rest of the nation did all right, and I am grateful to them. So let's move on to thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving decorations are more of a thing this year, or so I notice around the neighborhood, and maybe that's not a coincidence. This house chimed in on a popular Thanksgiving meme:
Another house brilliantly stuck it to a blog post of mine from TEN YEARS AGO. Way back in 2014, I wrote:
Christmas is green and red. Halloween is orange and black. St. Patrick's Day is green. First day of school is red and black (schools and blackboards). New Year's is white, black, and silver. Easter is anything, as long as it's pastel. I suppose it's only a matter of time before porch lights are available for all these holidays and more. But Thanksgiving is restricted to the colors of late fall, and by the end of November there are virtually no colors left. The leaves have fallen, been raked up, mulched, gone. Bare trees remain, and pine cones. Thanksgiving is brown. Who does brown lights?
Well, now they have those strip lights that can be turned to any color in the spectrum! And guess what? I found a house lit up in brown lights for the season! Very nice, and I applaud their effort and the desire to celebrate the great Thanksgiving holiday.
I couldn't believe my brown light tirade ran a whole decade ago. But yeah, I've been blogging on this site for almost eleven years, and on another host prior to than for a couple more. Maybe that's enough out of me already.
I always feel bad for people who have to work on Thanksgiving, especially when I'm one of them. But hey, I'm not complaining. At least I'm working on freelance editorial stuff against hard deadlines. I'm able to be home in my sweats. I'm not opening up the stupid store to herds of Early Black Friday loons and possibly looters. I got it easy.
And I don't feel like I'll be missing much. Sure, I would love to veg out and watch the MST3K Turkey Day Marathon via Pluto, but A) my wife isn't a fan and B) the dog knows when I'm being lazy and promptly takes steps to prevent me from enjoying it. Seriously, this guy will sleep 14 hours a day, but if I try to loaf without actually sleeping, he will demand to go for a walk, or play outside, or at least freeze on the porch. So I don't get to watch much TV anymore.
Two of my old Thanksgiving favorites are on the Nix List. I gave up on the Macy's Parade years ago when it became little more than an advertisement to get the moneyed folks from Connecticut and Westchester to come to town to see Broadway shows that I would not watch without being paid in the mid-five figures. And football? Is Roger Goodell still ruining -- uh, running -- the NFL? No thanks. Besides, the local teams suck, which reduces my interest in what the rest of the league is doing.
So while I will be at home, working, I will be having the traditional feast, and it is really a treat. Do not think I am not grateful, because I am. I am just very, very tired. Combine that with the turkey and I think even the dog -- spunky though he may be -- is not going to be able to dislodge me from the sofa after eats. I suppose he'll try, though.
Just a couple of holiday-related visions for you on this Monday morning, to give you the oomph to get through the next three days. You're welcome!
Bat Tree
In the dark of the morning I was walking golden Izzy, America's Sweetheart, and while he was sniffing about I did similarly with photons, which is to say I looked up into the tree with the headlamp on my forehead. There was this small Batman-themed bag, about ten feet off the ground, just hanging there like a hornet's nest. I was and am mystified by it. It looks too small to be a kid's schoolbag, too childlike to be a mom's miscellanea bag, too difficult to operate to be a Halloween candy bag, too landlubbery to be a sailor's ditty bag. What could it be? What's in it? I'll bet Catwoman is involved. She probably stole it from Bruce and got stuck up in the tree.
Barbie vs. Minions
It's time for the gingerbread house kits again, and of course even they have to be branded now with pop culture-themed crap. I suspect there might be a Star Wars (TM) Death Star gingerbread house out there somewhere. My wife and I will have more than enough cookies around without gingerbread, but out of curiosity I asked which of these would appeal to her. She loves the Minions, but she was a Barbie girl throughout childhood, and has even made it a point to give Barbie dolls to girls whose moms were reluctant to introduce their daughters to the world of everyone's favorite toy blonde. To my surprise, though, she liked the Minions kit better. She just thinks they are a hoot.
Early to Decor
Friday was probably the last day we'll have in the sixties for four months, so a few people around here took advantage and did their outdoor decoration. I've never seen so many people decorate for Christmas before Thanksgiving. Maybe they have in the past, but they didn't turn the lights on so I couldn't see them.
Gator? Later
On the topic of seasonal inappropriateness: I knew exactly what this was from a ways off -- an alligator-shaped pool float. The property on which he reposed has no swimming pool. I can only suppose the wind carried him to this resting spot. People, take care of your gators and your gators will take care of you. Didn't we all learn that in first grade?
Meanwhile, Back at the Wire
Remember this?
Two days after I put in the call, the power company got back to me. I was wrong, people! (Yes, it is possible!) This is a phone line, not a power line. Not that that makes it okay for the wire to dangle down to head level. So now I have to call the phone company. The adventure continues, and you can bet I'll milk a blog entry out of it keep you informed of further developments.
Well, the Halloween stuff has gone, and the Thanksgiving lights are coming out.
But Fred, you say, didn't you complain once that there are no Thanksgiving lights?
Yes, yes I did, way back in 2014. Since then things have changed a bit. I see more inflatable decorations dedicated to America's first holiday now -- like our old friend Quisling the Cannibal Turkey, back again this year.
A friend of mine on the wealthy side of the mighty Hudson put out two inflatable decorations -- a non-cannibal turkey (Pilgrim hat but no silverware) and a cornucopia. Very nice. She said that, including her two inflatable decorations, that made a total of two on the block. Her neighbors do not seem to be showing the proper Thanksgiving spirit. I recommended she keep putting out more and more things until they felt compelled to either join in or call the cops. Why, she could go in for the 7.5-foot inflatable Pilgrims. This really brings Thanksgiving close to a person.
One of the things I kvetched about nine years ago was the difficulty of Thanksgiving's seasonal colors, or rather color: "Thanksgiving is restricted to the colors of late fall, and by the end of November there are virtually no colors left. The leaves have fallen, been raked up, mulched, gone. Bare trees remain, and pinecones. Thanksgiving is brown. Who does brown lights?"
Well, maybe these people! Or close enough.
I noticed that early in the morning while walking Izzy. This family puts out quite a decorative spread for Halloween and Christmas, but with Halloween gone they'd changed out their front door lights for what look like dark orange lights. Perfect! I hope they'll follow through with some more Thanksgiving-themed stuff.
As for me, I really never put up much outside. A door hanging and a few little scarecrows in the window. I'm too tired from Halloween and already preemptively tired from Christmas. It all takes a toll on a guy after a while.
On Thanksgiving I took Izzy for a long walk around the neighborhood early in the morning. I was clearing off some room for calories, and I wanted to make sure he had enough exercise so he'd not be jumpy later. We didn't see a soul -- which can be good; at least no one threatened to sic the cops on us. But I was surprised to see that a lot of people had already started decorating for Christmas. And not just the Italians! (Sorry, people of Italian extraction, but you're always first up with the lights and you know it.)
I mean, sure, the stores have been full of lights.
Uh... not this kind. Think we'd be seeing these in Lowe's if New York hadn't caved to the cannabis lobby? (I call it Soma Lite.)
But why were Christmas lights coming out this early?
"We Need a Little Christmas" -- undoubtedly the most famous song from the 1966 Jerry Herman musical Mame, based on the 1958 film and before that the 1954 novel Auntie Mame -- is often heard as a Christmas song, and I guess it has to be. But the point of the song is that it is too early to actually have Christmas Day (complete with gift-giving), because it's just a week past Thanksgiving. And yet we must, because everything is wrong and we're in the dumps. The wealthy Mame Dennis has lost her fortune in the Wall Street Crash of '29 and has to go to work -- something she's not accustomed to, to say the least -- and gets sacked promptly. She goes home to her nephew, who will be taken from her if she can't support him, and her loyal household staff, whom she can't pay, and she herself is staring penury in the face. So they decide that whether it's too early or not, they're going to celebrate Christmas, because what better way to find joy in the depth of darkness? Mame was a YOLO / Live in the Day type before it was popular.
It's a great moment in the show. But behind it is the genuine threat of loss, pennilessness, and separation. (Everything turns out fine -- spoiler alert! -- because a wealthy customer from the store she got fired from shows up and marries her almost immediately after the number. Because it's a Broadway comedy, not Tolstoy.)
Anyway, my point is, maybe the people in my area feel the need to get that garland up. Our taxes and living expenses have skyrocketed; our salaries, not so much. Our part of New York mostly voted to change the political and economic direction in the state, but the places where they have tons of money or live off the government think things are just dandy and they outvoted us. The news talks about idiocy and corruption at all levels of society, about violence and killers running free, about social breakdown, even about war.
So, maybe we need a little Christmas.
Sounds good to me. I plan on getting some decorations up during the week, if I have time. I may even get the tree started today, which I never do before December. Christmas is all about light in the darkness, and I'm sick of darkness.
Happy Thanksgiving to all our American readers! And as I mentioned yesterday, even if you're not in America or hate America or whatever, I hope you can still find something good to be grateful for today.
I hope no one's plans are ruined because of the Chinese Death Virus -- Year #3 of it ruining almost everything, and enabling bad actors to ruin everything else. I'm glad I'm not a Foxconn factory worker in China, where it sounds like they're going through absolute hell with months of lockdowns in the factory. I'd like to point that out to people who despair that a representative government is bad at getting things done -- here you go, here's an example of things getting done in the other kind of government. Good job, Apple!
So I'm glad I don't live under the ChiComs.
I'm also grateful that when it came to sickness at Thanksgiving, the worst I can remember starting the day with was a cold. I feel like I had a cold every Thanksgiving when I was a kid, and I probably did. There are more than 200 rhinoviruses that bring us the colds we enjoy, and I guess I had them all by the time I was 12. Of course, my immune system forgot about them as we went along and we had to start all over again. I just remember a lot of car drives on rainy, chilly mornings to Thanksgiving afternoons at relatives' homes, feeling pretty crappy. However, I loved my family, and I loved pie, and I apologize to my family for bringing cold viruses into their homes.
As to the pie, I regret nothing.
It was kinda sucky to be sick on the morning of Thanksgiving, but they'd let me nap if necessary and I would rally. Much worse was to be sick day after Thanksgiving because the turkey had salmonella or the baby that was brought over to visit had norovirus.
Either way, it was good to have the Friday off.
Sick or not, eating pie or not, I hope you can find some joy, maybe even some fun on this most spiritual of national holidays. We're here, we're not faced with lockdowns or enemies sieging our ports, we're not personally on fire (well, I'm not), and we're able to read wonderful blog posts. Who's got it better than us?
It's been quite some time, but there's a new entry in everyone's favorite bloody massacre of a Thanksgiving XBox game: PilGRIM III!
Of course it's a fake sequel to the original fake game and the first fake sequel. I almost wish I could try these. I don't usually play violent video games, but I think to get in the spirit of the day it would be worth a try. Pretty sure a zombie turkey would take me out in no time, though.
But it wouldn't kill my appetite, however gory. As the meme says:
So as for eating, I wish you a very delightful Thanksgiving feast tomorrow, and if you are not American, well, I wish you something to be thankful for even if it's not your holiday. I'll have something for you on the blog Thursday, although I have no idea what. On Friday, probably indigestion.
And . . . yeah. It's hard to argue with it, actually. For such a popular holiday as Thanksgiving we ought to have some popular songs to celebrate it. Instead, what do we have? What comes to mind for you?
"Over the River and Through the Woods" -- I think this old wheezer got its second legs by being sung at the end of A Charlie Brown Thanksgivingby the gang riding -- in what now would be ILLEGALLY! -- in the back of the Browns' station wagon. And what is that song all about? Going to Grandma's house for a celebration in a snowy season. Sounds more like Christmas than Thanksgiving to me, unless you live in Buffalo, God help you. But indeed the poem was published under the title "The New-England Boy's Song about Thanksgiving Day" in 1844, according to Dr. Wikipedia. No one knows who set it to music.
So that's one, but I guess it doesn't count as a "banger." Neither do a lot of our popular Christmas songs, though, and I'm not sure I'd like to see a lot of them done in a modern style, let alone as Thanksgiving songs. "All I Want Stuffed for Thanksgiving Is You" may seem to have a kind of charm, but -- nah.
It's easy to say that Thanksgiving's theme of gratitude is too solemn for ribaldry, but come on. It certainly can't top the night of the birth of Christ for solemnity, and we've been celebrating that in every degree from contemplation to drunken spree for two thousand years. So let's try digging a little harder in the hit holiday mine shall we?
I have to say, it doesn't get much easier. Even Mark Steyn, the radio deejay turned political commenter, wrestled with it in his book A Song for the Season. For Thanksgiving, he chose the utterly unexpected song "Jingle Bells" -- unexpected, that is, unless you'd read his essay about it when it originally appeared on his blog.
Just in time for Thanksgiving, here comes, er, "Jingle Bells" - which was written not for the Yuletide season but, allegedly, for Thanksgiving. In Boston, in the fall of 1857, the city's leading music publisher, Oliver Ditson, introduced the world to a new song called "The One-Horse Open Sleigh".
Steyn notes that racing about fast as possible in unprotected sleighs pulled by speedy nags -- and maybe with speedy nags, IFYKWIM(AITYD) -- was quite the pre-Civil War craze. New England certainly can get cold enough by Thanksgiving to let loose the horses. (It's 36 degrees in New York City as I write this, and you can usually subtract a few degrees and add a couple of inches of ice and snow to estimate the weather in Boston.) Steyn writes:
...what I find oddest are the claims of Christmas Songs Made In America and many similar books that the song was written for "his father's Sunday School class on Thanksgiving 1857". I'm willing to believe that at Thanksgiving a young man's fancy turns to snow, at least in those distant days before Al Gore's global warming project sent the mercury rising. But no Massachusetts Sunday School is going to teach its charges a song whose lyrical preoccupations are racing, gambling and courting:
A day or two ago I thought I'd take a ride And soon Miss Fannie Bright Was seated by my side... Now the ground is white Go it while you're young Take the girls tonight...
Hmm. He's got a point.
But it's no good; all songs about snow activities are eventually sucked into the Christmas oeuvre, and "Jingle Bells" got there a long time ago.
What are the other choices, then? "Turkey Lurkey Time" from the 1969 Broadway show Promises, Promises sounds promising, but it's A) all about Christmas and B) got a title that makes me want to Hurly Wurly. Adam Sandler did a comedy song on Thanksgiving almost 30 years ago, but we're not looking for parodies here, and if we were, we'd look for better ones. (It's no "Chanukah Song," is what I'm saying.) I applaud Ben Rector for giving it 100% on a country song:
It's fine -- it's got the usual country song lists -- goin' home, my town, families, football, love -- and maybe it's made it to the PA in your local supermarket, but it hasn't cut any ice here in the northeast as far as I can tell. It has some real heart, so thumbs-up on that, Ben.
A couple of years ago I noted that Irving Berlin took a crack at Thanksgiving for the film Holiday Inn, in which all the songs are pegged to different holidays with mixed results. The number "I've Got Plenty to Be Thankful For," is one of the better ones, but it's never become a standard -- maybe because Christmas does shove aside all Thanksgiving numbers, or maybe because it's a love song, and in the movie Bing does a rueful duet with his own recording, having a lonely Thanksgiving after his girlfriend has been stolen by Fred Astaire. As far as I can tell the song has never had a successful cover version.
Surely the old-timers 100+ years ago in Tin Pan Alley coughed up a Thanksgiving song or two, right? Well, probably -- God knows they churned out songs on all kinds of topics, all day, every day, hoping one or two would stick in the public consciousness. I note there was a number called "A Thanksgiving Song" in a book of Tin Pan Alley tunes, but I can't track down whose it was and who may have recorded it.
I admit I'm no musicologist, though.
A search through the AllMusic site brings us many songs with Thanksgiving in the title, and I hope you'll enlighten me if any others have really made it to the big time.
However, I do have a suggestion for an older number that really does suit the day. It's from a Broadway show, almost as old as Promises, Promises, but like that show also had a breakout hit (in the case of the former, "I'll Never Fall in Love Again"; in the latter, "Day By Day"). I'm referring to Godspell's "All Good Gifts," which hits every note in the purpose of the holiday of Thanksgiving. Yes, it's hippie music, but it's grateful hippie music.
And there it is -- we thank you, Lord, for all good gifts. Sounds like Thanksgiving to me.
I was out just now walking Izzy in the dark morning when I encountered a turkey that was larger than both of us put together.
And I was happy to see it, and yet also a little worried.
For years I've been calling for more Thanksgiving decorations. It's a great national holiday, intended for celebration by every American regardless of religion, background, or politics. And celebrate it we do, but decorate it? Nah, we still have our Halloween stuff up, or we're getting our Christmas stuff up, or we're just too busy raking leaves. Well, not this family -- giant light-up inflatable turkey to the rescue!
On the other hand, a turkey holding silverware, wearing a chef's hat and a bib calling us to dine, is concerning. At worst this giant bird is a cannibal, hoping to join in the consumption of his fellows. Or he may be what the Great Lileks calls a quisling mascot, hoping to direct you to eat his fellows in the hope of being spared. I dress like a human, see? I'm one of you!
I'm not sure that's going to help him if the balloon goes up and we spot a 300-pound source of white and dark meat.
It's a disturbing idea, and indeed one I snatched at in my novel Larry and the Mascots. When advertising mascots are brought to life, one of them -- a pork-promoting pig named Hamswell, in butcher's gear -- becomes deranged and murderous because of the horror of his dual nature. Naturally, the book is a comedy!
But I'm going to push aside my grim imaginings and see this lawn decoration for what it is -- a silly means to promote a serious holiday. We should celebrate with the gravity of gratitude and the lightness of hope. And then, let's eat! But don't stick a fork in this guy; he might explode.
It's this last bit that did get me thinking, for whatever amount of thinking I was able to do.
We don't usually let Halloween stick around, do we? The hearts might hang around until March; shamrocks might stay out until April; and Christmas stuff might laze about for months. Halloween? As soon as its over we look around, embarrassed, like we've awakened from a drunken affair of convenience and are all ashamed but trying to be polite, then we put it behind us as fast as possible and move on.
Of course, Halloween has the bad luck to be on the last day on the month, and month's end usually brings a desire for a change. The shamrock may not look silly on March 24, but the ghost hanging around on November 6 looks lost. You really feel the need to get rid of that stuff on November 1 in case any time-displaced costumers show up looking for candy. Down come the ghosts! Down come the skeletons! Hurry! Hurry!
I think that would be the case even if Halloween were not up against the giant Thanks-CHRISTMAS behemoth that starts on November 1, Frankly, I'm glad Halloween does its bit just to keep Christmas at bay a little. You know I love Christmas, but if the retailers were 100% cranked for it after Labor Day, I'd be exhausted by December 1. As it is, Christmas is such a huge deal that it has a 12-day hangover attached.
Maybe the theme of Halloween also makes us want to give it the hook before the applause has faded. Who but the most morbid of us wants to wallow in spooky graveyard stuff all the time? It's a pretty small population compared to those who like cheer and joy. It's funny that in Halloween films, the festivities go through Halloween night; except in places like Rutland, Vermont, which has a parade for the day, it's all over by ten p.m. -- earlier if you have a town curfew as we do. Most of the time it's a school night, a work night, for some even a church night; most of us can't and won't go deep into the wee hours with pumpkin-scented foofaraw.
So for a guy who didn't have much to say today, I said a lot. This may be my last mention of Halloween for the year, for which most will be grateful. Happy Thanksgiving!
Every Thanksgiving, turkey becomes a huge deal -- every American has to comment on the turkey he or she is having for dinner, or explain why something else was on the menu. Eating kosher or halal is no excuse, of course, unless you're in some area that can't provide those butchers, but veganism, vegetarianism, poultry allergy, and just a strong dislike of turkey are acceptable excuses, although the excusee may harbor doubts about the excuser's devotion to the holiday and, by extension, America. The only non-turkey excuse that really works is the argument of authenticity, that the Pilgrims likely did not eat turkey on the first Thanksgiving, and thus one is instead having truly traditional dishes including eel and deer.
It may be that some families go with turkey for Easter, and I wouldn't be surprised. My preferred supermarket, the one on the five-story hill, has an offer that goes as follows: If you spend $400 in the store in the weeks leading up to Easter, you can use your loyalty card to get a free half shank smoked ham, store-brand turkey, frozen lasagna, kosher chicken, turkey breast, Tofurky, Gardein vegan "holiday roast," or deep discounts on other hams and turkeys. Going by this it looks like people eat ham, turkey, or spurious fake meat. But there are no lamb discounts. (I understand that people celebrating Passover would probably not be getting ham, and often will serve chicken, but where are the brisket discounts?)
Well, as for me and mine, we're having lamb shanks. What's on your menu?
My wife made the best turkey ever this year. She's always had a knack, and her reliance on oven bags usually ensures a moist bird. Still, this year she outdid herself. We had a wonderful meal on the big day, and looked forward to leftovers.
Enter me.
Our refrigerator, which is on the small side due to the knuckleheads who placed the cabinets where they did, was already jammed with leftover sides when I decided the turkey was cool enough to join them. (The pearl onions were awesome, BTW.) It was past ten p.m.; the dogs had settled down for the night, and no one wanted a turkey sandwich.
I had wrapped the bird in the roasting pan under layers of Glad Press 'n Seal, then covered the whole thing with heavy duty foil. There was a lot of moisture still in the pan, and you want to keep that in to make sure the meat stays moist. Also, you certainly wouldn't want to do anything that would allow the pan to leak, would you?
Ha, he laughed hollowly, ha.
I had cleared a shelf for the turkey, except for the pot of creamed onions. I figured they would both fit. I figured wrong. As I realized that the pot, jammed now in the corner, would not allow the roasting pan to fully slide in, I decided I had to take the turkey back out and find another spot for the onions. But by that point I had pushed in the fridge just a hair backward, and the door would only open to a 90-degree angle because now it was flush with the wall on the right side. Because of that the pan would not come back out, nor was I sure would it stay on the shelf if I let go.
At this point I had two choices:
1) Call for help
2) Use the same instinct that makes a man want to carry 11 shopping bags into the house by himself to try to pull the roasting pan against the door to bring the fridge out far enough to open the same door to say a 120-degree angle and return the pan to the stovetop
Naturally I chose option 2, which is when the roasting pan slipped out of my grasp and landed on the floor upside-down, shooting turkey juice on the floor in a huge puddle and on the floor of the refrigerator in a small puddle.
The turkey itself stayed in place; the wrappers held pretty well. The leakage was understandable after half a gallon of liquid was violently tossed about.
So, despite the fact that I wanted to go to sleep myself, and the inner three-year-old just wanted to walk away and leave it, I spent quite some times cleaning up everything. The turkey was fine, but what a mess.
Needless to say, I learned some Key Lessons for next Thanksgiving:
Men, don't be stubborn when rassling a turkey into the refrigerator. Call for help if you need it. Don't try to use ten pounds of meat, two pounds of liquid, and a five-pound roasting pan as a tool for moving a refrigerator, even one on glide wheels. It's just not worth it.
And finally, store the onions in a bowl. It takes up less space.
For Thanksgiving on this dreary year, I thought it would be fun to look at the holiday with images of past years. Thanksgiving may not be grand for us in 2020, but better times will come.
Courtesy of the Amazing Actors of Old Hollywood community, allow me to share some Thanksgiving publicity photos of great movie stars back when movies were fun, not wanton obscenity and hectoring minefields of political correctness.
Felix the Cat shows how it's done. Not sure about the guy in the Felix suit, but then, the original Mickey at Disneyland was terrifying.
Marilyn Monroe goes after wild game.
Looking delicious, Rita Hayworth -- and so does the turkey!
Adelle August had a short movie career but plenty long legs. Probably not the first turkey she got to do her bidding.
Debbie Reynolds lands on Plymouth Rock.
That moment Doris Day became an animal rights activist.
Durante compares schnozzolas.
I dream of Pilgrims. Seems to be a holiday mashup for Barbara Eden.
I think we all know who killed this turkey.
Just slipping in a little cannibal from the neighborhood!
Harold Lloyd either doing his shopping for Thanksgiving dinner or just back from Black Friday doorbusters.
And finally, another great movie star, the Tin Man, wombles down the avenue.
Happy Thanksgiving, all! Feast and be grateful -- if you're reading this, you have survived 100% of everything life has been able to throw at you so far. God bless!
I've kvetched in the past that Thanksgiving, for a very important American holiday, has little in terms of decoration. This year I've seen some lawn inflatables around, generally the classic turkey in a pilgrim hat type of thing, but I've seen far more houses where people have already put up all the Christmas stuff -- inflatable Santa, garland, candy canes, wreaths, twinkle lights, floodlights, the works.
We had some nice days last weekend, the kind that might encourage people to get the outside decked so as not to have to do it in the freezing rain, but when people have done that in the past, they usually leave the lights off until Thanksgiving or so. Not now. I think it's all part of the Let's Shove 2020 Out the Door as Fast as Possible movement that I noted in September.
Sadly, I no longer think that getting to 2021 will help. I think there will be more lockdowns, more panic, more nanny state, more spying on your neighbors, more useless regulations, and now with the full force of the federal government and its Silicon Valley enablers involved.
Regardless, we soldier on, knowing that we all have things for which to be grateful, individually and as a nation. And I was pleased as punch to drive by this house:
The owners have lit up the joint with orange lights, but with the accompanying wreath and garland they look more Thanksgivingy than Halloweeny. And indeed, the pumpkin decoration in front of the staircase says "Happy Thanksgiving." That's what I'm talking about! As I've said before, the problem with decorating for Thanksgiving is that the predominant color of the day is brown (a serious hue), but here is a family that did it up right.
We need more Thanksgiving decoration, which will help us celebrate the holiday properly rather than steamroll over it on the way to Walmart for Christmas shopping. I suppose it might make us a target for the Small Thanksgiving Police, but that's a chance we'll have to take.
As for me, I've got a little sign on the door and some patriotic motifs, because that was all I could think to do. I hope to do better next year, and I hope I and all of you will have more for which to have gratitude next year too.
.jpg)
.jpg)
