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    Tag: Thanksgiving

    • Tradition (Happy Thanksgiving)

      “Tradition is the illusion of permanence.” — Woody Allen

      The fact that we’ve always done something a certain way doesn’t mean that thing ought to be done that way forever. Tradition is merely a form of habit, ritualized and accepted as the way. But life is change, and tradition is thus always in a fragile state. We all crave some measure of permanence and familiarity in a world that guarantees nothing. And so it takes people deliberately choosing to do something the same way again and again that makes a tradition stick. For Americans, the ultimate expression of tradition is Thanksgiving.

      For more than half my life I’ve been getting up early and prepping a bird for a mid-afternoon meal with family and friends. It’s a lovely tradition, but admittedly unusual. I mean, it’s right in the middle of the work week, we’re all spread out across the country now, and the whole thing is just so expensive in time and effort. And we love it so because we’re all together again, for no other reason than that we choose to be. And that’s cause for celebration.

      We know (or we must know) that time flies (tempus fugit) and we’re all quite fragile (memento mori), and any one of these Thanksgivings may be the last for us. The whole holiday is an acknowledgement that we made it to here, today, and mostly together despite all that is happening in the world, and we ought to celebrate our arrival here today with a traditional meal altered slightly for dietary considerations. Yes, life is change, and we are surely changed by this complicated business of living, but today we still have this wonderful tradition and each other. Happy Thanksgiving.

    • The Grinch Seeks the Seashore

      “The sea-shore is a sort of neutral ground, a most advantageous point from which to contemplate this world.” – Henry David Thoreau, Cape Cod

      I’m a bit of a contrarian in this family. While others are planning to transform the house into a Christmas wonderland, I’m thinking about cold and isolated beaches. Don’t get me wrong, I like warm beaches too, but they’re in short supply this time of year in New England. And when they’re warm they definitely aren’t isolated.

      I saw some of the extended commercial they call the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on NBC yesterday while prepping for Thanksgiving dinner. The best way to watch the parade is standing on a street corner in New York. But maybe not in a pandemic. The second best way to watch it is on mute so you don’t have to hear all the breathless commercials for each sponsor as some designated singer lip syncs their cover of a holiday song that will be featured on some rom com special on… NBC. But really, I love the holidays.

      Christmas decorations are lovely, the problem is me. I don’t turn on a dime like that. I don’t rush out to grab whatever is on sale, I don’t flip a switch to start Christmas the moment the Thanksgiving dishes are cleaned, and I don’t have all my gifts purchased yet either. I like to ease into the holidays one at a time, thank you.

      So while the holidays are ramping up in this New Hampshire household, I’m thinking about staring at the ocean. Perhaps too many SV Delos videos? Too much time away from the sea? Really, it could be any number of things, but mostly I think I’m not ready for the crush of Christmas. And yet here we are anyway.

      I’ve plotted an escape. A quick weekend on Cape Cod next weekend to stare at Buzzards Bay, feel the brisk wind on my face, and mentally shift gears from Autumn to winter. Cape Cod in early December is wondrously quiet, which is just what the Grinch needs before he switches to Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.

      But that’s next weekend. Today the Grinch strings Christmas lights on dormant trees. After all, it isn’t all about you. Right? Happy Holidays.

    • Thanksgiving 2020

      This morning would normally be abuzz with Thanksgiving runners scrambling out the door to run the Feaster Five in Andover, Massachusetts. They have a virtual race this year, I’m told. I’m not the runner in the household. Normally I’d wish the runners good luck and focus on other things. For I have other obligations on this day.

      I am the designated turkey escort: I escort it from the refrigerator to the sink to the counter to the oven to the table. It’s fair to say I get to know the turkey more than the turkey gets to know me. Cooking turkey is relatively easy compared to other meals, but the timing matters a lot. And so does the preparation. And so my morning is spent honoring the poultry despite the indignities I put it through.

      This year features a sharply smaller group, yet a turkey similar in size to other Thanksgivings. It seems you can’t ask the turkey to shed the pounds after they spent all year bulking up, and so there was a serious shortage of smaller turkeys available for the suddenly smaller gatherings. I hope the really big ones find a good home with those in need.

      Often this year I’ve wondered at the world we live in, and why the dynamics of human relationships seem to divide on what media source you consume. Politics, belief in mask-wearing, vast conspiracy talk… At times this year I’ve walked away from it, dove deep into the middle of it, and tried to mediate it. And all of that has reinforced for me that you can’t live happily in a pile of “it”.

      The beauty of a smaller gathering is we can ignore all that and focus on what matters. We’re all just a little bit world-weary and shell-shocked from absorbing what was lost this year and on edge about what might still come to pass. And yet we still have so much to be thankful for. The world wallows in self-pity, but it turns on hope and love and generosity. And so we celebrate our short time together on this earth and count the blessings we’ve had in a most challenging year.

      Happy Thanksgiving.