16 Things That Can Ruin Your Thanksgiving And Mine
There I sat at this pristine dining table made to seat three families. I was alone. I was busy admiring the fine craftsmanship on the antique lace edge to the table cloth and how each intricate design told its own story to the viewer.
“that work must have taken a lot of patience,” I thought to myself.
Soon, family members and a few neighbors started filing-in, laughing, joking, and just creating a festive atmosphere as they came further and further into the house.
Uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and a few wayward cousins spoke to me and milled-around waiting for “the” main attraction: the home-cooked meal consisting of a twelve-pound Butterball turkey (with homemade Michigan dressing) on the same plate; hot, buttered rolls by the basketful, with hot cornbread to match the delicious green beans, greens, peas and candied yams.
Off to the side of the main dining table where I was sitting, I viewed several two and three-layered cakes in all sizes, shapes, flavors and colors.
It didn’t take American icon and painter, Norman Rockwell’s ghost to tell me that it was Thanksgiving Day.
I silently took-in a breath, and silently exhaled a sigh of relief.
This is too good, too perfect, I thought to myself, actually allowing doubt to enter my mind as to if “I” were at the right house.
I checked to see if I could any relatives that I knew. False alarm. I was at the right place for there carving the huge, brown turkey, was my Uncle Ott from Pekin, Illinois. I could tell it was Ott due to his Navy crewcut and the gaping-space in his top gums due to his two front teeth being knocked out of his mouth in a “friendly” fist-fight with a coworker on whom was better, The (then) Baltimore Colts or the Chicago Bears when middle linebacker, Dick Butkus was in his prime.
Ott’s lovely wife, and my aunt, Arvilla, was doing what she did best, talk to as many people at one as she could with her signature broad, ear-to-ear smile. Arvilla was in fact, the “life” of our holiday parties.
And then I spotted cousins, Joe, Wilma Jean, and their children: Rick, Denny, Linda and Debbie. I always envied Joe, their father, for being so laid-back, and yet so hard-working and feeding his family at the American Motors plant in Kenosha, Wisconsin.
Daddy and mother were sitting chatting to relatives as they sipped their black coffee. I tell you. I had died and somehow ended up in Heaven or a good version of it. Everything was perfect. And when I mean perfect, I mean perfect.
The pets were all behaved. No one, not even the kids spilled one drop of milk, soda or ice tea, and uncle Ott, not known for his balance and grace, didn’t miss a beat as hiscarving of the turkey was nothing short of masterpiece of work.
I ate slowly. Drank slowly. Chewed slowly. Okay, I did everything slowly for I didn’t want this scene to fade-away. I wanted where I was to last forever, to savor each sparkle of this amazing moment.
Then I had the most-bizarre thought. “there’s not much that can ruin this Thanksgiving for “me.” No siree. Nothing at all.
Suddenly my mind started acting like it did when I was in the “real” world having mortal and insignificant thoughts just like everyone else.
Before I could take another bite of Minnesota Candied Yams, 16 thoughts back-to-back like an Illinois Central freight train on a midnight run to Oregon started hitting my mind. I was scared I tell you. Sweat started popping-out on my forehead.
How could this be? I said to myself.
My answer came when someone whom I’d never met, who was standing near the dessert table, looked at me and replied, “oh, those are “16 Things That Could Ruin This Any Thanksgiving For You And I.”
And “here they are for your approval.”
"Please," no visits from any chicken mascots, sports-related or restaurant
More People, Things That CAN Ruin Thanksgiving Day For You and I
NO MITT ROMNEY STORIES telling me and all whom are present at our Thanksgiving Day meal why he lost to Barack Obama and how "they," need to just reflect for a few hours on how much better the United States would be "if" Romney had been elected.
NO RONALD REAGAN TOPICS or any other political-topics. I think that the Thanksgiving Day celebrations should honor the "three rules of any bar room": No discussions on politics, sports or religion. That way, no fights, hurt feelings or food thrown at each other and wasted.
PEOPLE WHO PLAY WITH THEIR FOOD sadly, aren't welcome at my house for Thanksgiving. Now if they are starving, sure. I'll be the first to load-up several plates and give them to these people, but people who know better and just "play" with food, I simply cannot tolerate.
WINTER TIME MEMORIES you can keep. I have no desire to hear "any" tale, saga, or epic adventure "you" and your buddies, "Sal," "W.D.," "Lenny," or "Jim," had one year when you were all juniors at Brown University and you dared each other to strip-down to nothing and sit your fannies down on the icy sidewalks. No thanks. Just not in the mood for naked butt stories on Thanksgiving Day or any day for that matter.
"I AM TOO ARTISTIC" to eat with you, Kenneth. My thoughts are lofty and I can suffer and express my pain without food. Okay. I am not going to argue with you. Suffer and do not take my invitation for a free meal. See how long you can survive on suffering.
"PLEASE," NO "OBAMA BASHING" before, during or after the Thanksgiving meal. Sure, he's made mistakes in his first four years as our president, and your candidate, (if you didn't vote for Obama) would have made some too, so "please," for my stomach and nerve's sake, wait until you get home to bash President Obama. I will and President Obama will appreciate it.
NO SURFING LINGO such as "whoooa, dude," "whatsssup?" "dawg," or "hang ten." I live in Alabama. There are no beaches or "milk sop" waves in my hometown, thus, no surfers. If you, who do surf, want to join me on Thanksgiving, fine. Just don't cram your made-up surfer ling down my throat or the throats of my guests.
NO TAYLOR SWIFT discussions, showing of Taylor Swift DVD's, or playing of Taylor Swift CD's while we are eating our Thanksgiving meal and having good fellowship. I have nothing against her personally, but any singer, male or female, who "acts" surprised when she wins her eighth award, just gets on my old nerves. Sorry. I just cannot help it. Oh, Swift is welcome to eat with my family and I anytime, just "please" don't "act" all humble and surprised when you are given a turkey breast and a candied yam.
I do NOT need "EX's" showing-up at my door
FILTHY JOKES ABOUT WOMEN are not welcome at my home on, during or after Thanksgiving or any holiday. Women are people, not livestock or furniture. And certainly not items that "you can buy or sell" like a used '66 Buick. And men, for lack of a better word, who have this burning desire to entertain other men with filthy jokes about women, real or fictitious, make me nauseous. So, if you must tell your dirty jokes about females, try the all-night laundry mat down the street.
ALEX O'LOUGHLIN every Monday night on CBS' Hawaii Five-O. I had rather sit out in my yard and it ten below zero than have to tolerate O'Loughlin, CBS' "one-man show," and if you watch this show, you never see O'Loughlin's character, "McGarret," on the losing-end of a criminal's wicked plans. No sir. O'Loughlin must be endowed with a magical power that whenever he is offered a role for television, he casts his magic spell on the writers to allow "him," as the lead actor to always win, have a perfect body, car, speech and looks. Life is far from perfect. Why can't CBS learn this fact? I'd be more of an O'Loughlin fan "if" reality were written into his shows.
BRAD PAISLEY to many across the nation, is a Country Music super star. When and "if" what he plays on the numerous Country Music Awards show(s) can be considered Country Music. What his music sounds like is "pop music" being bred to early "rock," and the mixture, just my opinion, is "NOT" Country Music. So, as in the case of Taylor Swift CD's, if you must have a Brad Paisley CD in one perpetual loop during Thanksgiving Dinner, do it outside.
NO MICHAEL JORDAN ARGUMENTS or boasting, "please." Sure, he was "the best" player in the NBA for his time frame, but to say Jordan is "the best" all-time NBA player is incorrect. What about Bill Russell? Wilt Chamberlin? Larry Bird? And "Pistol" Pete Maravich? If you are going to argue about Jordan, do it on your own property, not mine.
ABSOLUTELY NO TALK OF IRANIAN PRIME MINISTER MAHMOUD AHMADINEJAD who said on CNN, "the world will be better off when Israel is wiped-off the map," and this coming from a world leader? Oh, he also promotes terrorism and shedding of innocent blood. If I hear this "monster's" name mentioned before, during or after Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Day or any day . . .I will instantly leave your presence. I have absolutely no use or respect for anyone, Iranian or groups such as the Skin Heads, who are so blind and ignorant to those lives around them and their differences, that they preach killing and ruling the world. Not one bit. For this, I am not compelled to apologize.
But I am compelled to "Wish YOU and YOURS the Best Thanksgiving Ever and I include My Cherished Followers in This Wish for without them, I would just be sitting, wasting-away on my couch."
I do NOT need to wrangle wild dogs during Thanksgiving Day
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