why i love thanksgiving

a fifth-grade style writing exercise

Carol Bly, my writing teacher, harbors a thinly veiled disdain for Thanksgiving. She keeps giving us writing exercises (see below) in which we must write about a holiday drama. She's given a few examples, like the time Robert told off his aunt at post-dinner pumpkin pie, and talks about what a hotbed of psychological turmoil surrounds the dinner table.

A classmate asked her what the deal was. Carol admitted that she isn't thrilled with Thanksgiving, and a number of classmates said they hate the holiday, too. Hate it. It's purposeless and a lot of work to get a bunch of people together who have to pretend they're not going crazy to get it all over with.

Pish.

I love Thanksgiving.

It's non-secular, (although I like most secular holidays, I like that it isn't about organized religion) all about food and gratitude. Gratitude is underrated.

It celebrates a friendly union between two enemies through food. Food is powerful stuff. I have a problem with romanticizing the relationship between invaders and natives, yes, but it's not so much about that anymore. It's grown into being about family and stopping to appreciate the good things. It's about cooking and eating, which are historically fantastic methods of human bonding. In my family, it's about seeing the new babies that have been born or adopted in the past year, like my baby cousin Lucy from China.

You dress in warm clothes because the business and heat of summer are officially over. This is key: Thanksgiving rocks because it marks the point where things calm down and we all turn inward and get a little solitude after an extroverted summer. I'm a writer, so I dig that.

You cook good stuff. The house smells good. You get together people you love. (Frankly, I avoid people that don't make me feel good. It's a holiday for chrissake, and life's too short.) You eat a ton. You take a nap. You drink good wine and eat pie. I hardly ever eat pie. My sisters and I make lists of all the things we're thankful for and read our lists from the previous year, which usually makes us laugh till we just about pee our pants. Then you sleep and eat more. When else can you watch at 35 foot tall Wonderdog falloon float down Madison Avenue? Never.

I am single. I know my friend Voix is/was a little bit bummed not to have a snuggly signif for the holidays, and I can relate. But I'm telling you--there are benefits.

Single people usually get adopted into another person's family holidays if they're too far from their own, and my single friends kind of band together. Single folks often get to spend holidays with different loved ones and possibly an eclectic group of cool people that they might otherwise see.

The Voix is in Arizona with some dear friends right now having a fab time. Today, my friend Matt is flying in from Portland. Matt grew up three blocks away from me and we've been friends forever. I haven't seen him in age and our Thanksgiving is going to be fantastic. If I had a signif, would Matt be coming to spend a ton of Q.T. with me? Maybe, but I doubt it. I'd be more likely to spend the holiday at Mr. Signif's parents house (or dragging him to mine) where one of us spends the day making small talk with strangers. There's nothing wrong with that--but there's plenty of time for it down the road. That's all I'm saying.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go tidy up for my guest, get my fireplace going, light my candle that smells like pumpkin spice and decanter a pinot noir. All the best....