Thanksgiving 2014: the stuffing
by Albo P Fossa ✍ November 25th, 2014
You know you’ve reached seniority when being “home for the holidays” means staying the hell right where you are. Turkey day nears, and already, folks in the neighborhood are on the grid. Last year, we finally ditched all our—mostly 20-year-old—multicolor light strings and kept a few LED strands for the windows. And we, too, will light up the ’hood come this weekend.
Walmart has food bins out in front of their stores to be stuffed with donations. I understand these gifts will go to Walmart employees, most of whom have such low wages they must resort to food stamps for survival. Thank goodness for Human Services. “Oh, the humanity…”
Meanwhile, we have the luxury of a food pickup right at our mailbox. Stuff a bag and leave it hanging. We searched the pantry for the usual year’s accumulation of foods we’d bought and not had time to use. Like extra cans of beans, chicken soup, canned salmon, ramen noodles…and on, and on. Grocery oddities.
We use canned goods regularly. Among them, our Turkey Day favorite: the “good kind”, as we call it. Cranberry sauce. It has to have ridges. ¡Important! (We used to find cranberry sauce with raspberries. I guess it was a corporate passing fancy. Dang!) They oughta build a straw into the bottom of the can, so we can remove the top and blow out the roll, whole. Those sliced wheels are traditional turkey plate emblems.
We’ll fetch out the turkey plates we use but once a year. You know the ones. Emblazoned with pictures of turkeys, painted in fine shades of blue or brown on white china. And a gravy boat, of course: gotta have a boat and a ladle. (Yes, a ladle even though the boat has a spout.) Is the scene set? (We could have white napkins, a white tablecloth, unlit candles, and crystal glasses…but let’s not go too Rockwell-esque.)
Who brought the green bean casserole?
So let us be thankful that somewhere, somehow, thousands—nay, millions—of potatoes, beans, cranberries, wheat glumes, turkeys, pumpkins, grapes, and the several other manner of living things have given their lives so that we may sit at home for the holidays and stuff our fat arses and make them fatter as the lights brighten the windows and the two-minute warning sounds.
Red wine with white meat? Gauche!
Freedom from Want.