Thirty-something speaks
Be thankful and feast...the perfect holiday

Mike Maddock

I am a big fan of Thanksgiving. I mean what other holiday's prime objective is to stuff its participants so full of turkey and dressing that they have no choice but to lay on the couch with their pants undone, groan continuously, doze in and out of consciousness, and suffer through a Detroit Lions' football game? It's the kind of celebration that could only happen in America.

Thanksgiving doesn't come with the financial stress of Christmas. You don't have to stay up until midnight partying in Times Square making resolutions you know won't last past Valentine's Day. You don't have to worry about some drunk blasting a Roman candle through your bedroom window as soon as the sun goes down, and you don't have to dress up and hand out candy to a 16-year-old kid in a hat and a T-shirt claiming his costume is supposed to be Brittany Spears' ex-husband.

Thanksgiving is laid back (at least for those of us not doing the cooking and cleaning). Just say a little prayer thanking God for all his many blessings, dive through several plates of food, and spend the rest of the day working up enough stamina for the turkey sandwich and extra slice of pecan pie sure to come later that night. Now that's a holiday! And if that weren't enough, it comes with an extra day to recover. You don't get that with Labor Day.

The only problem with Thanksgiving is that it's the official kickoff of the eating season. It's the beginning of those 40 days or so when gravy is a staple, trays of pastries magically appear at the office on a daily basis, and resolution becomes a dirty word. How can we think about a salad with low-fat balsamic vinegar dressing and sit-ups when there's a table full of éclairs in the break room? I sure can't. That's why I spend the next 364 days making up for it...or at least I think about making up for it. Unfortunately, I don't need an official holiday to gorge myself, but when it's eating season, guilt is not on the menu. No use worrying about a jog, when a tray of leftover dressing is in the fridge.

I'm not exactly sure if my version of Thanksgiving is what the colonists had in mind when they first sat down with the Indians. I don't really picture pilgrims tossing their cloaks on the floor, unbuttoning their breeches, and settling in for a nap after feasting on several plates of sea biscuits, stewed pumpkins, and some roast venison. But who knows?

The food and the clothing may have been a bit different back then, but I think the concept is still the same today...be thankful and feast. Sure life was a little tougher back then. The pilgrims didn't have toilet paper, and they may have had to fight back a bear or two, but at least they didn't have to watch the Lions. They can be thankful for that. I'm thankful for many things including the fact we don't have to wear those funny hats and big buckles on our shoes.