For the first time this year, I’m smoking a turkey.
That’s right, I’m cooking the old bird low and slow for 10 to 12 hours. It will be the only thing done slowly that day. You see, the Traditional Thanksgiving has gone the way of the Mayflower. The present Thanksgiving is all about getting through a mundane day to get to the Christmas season.
By smoking a turkey, I’m giving thanks to firefighters this year by not disturbing them with a garage fire caused by deep frying one. But I’m also thumbing my nose at the callous folks who have intruded on the day by trying to make it a speedy afterthought. I’m saying it is OK to sit by a smoking grill for hours with a newspaper in one hand and a frosty beverage in the other.
Kindles are too sensitive to have near such heat.
I’m saying it is OK to turn on the TV and watch a Thanksgiving parade while still in pajamas. It’s OK to gather around the kitchen counter and have people pitching in to finish pies, throw together casseroles, and toss salads. Having a board game out on the living room floor is more than acceptable. It’s fine to spend three, six or even nine hours watching football before the meal, between the main course and dessert, and after the meal when the food coma starts to claim person after person. But Tryptophan be damned, 5-Hour Energy was made for days like this.
We can’t allow sleep to infiltrate the early evening of a day with friends and family! After all, you probably already will have lost a few enterprising young adults who have been whisked off to The Gap, Walmart, Sears or Target to help eager shoppers get a jump start on holiday shopping. Why wait until Friday morning when it is much better to have people gulp down a turkey with trimmings and waddle out to stand in the cold for incredible deals?
Is this what celebrations have become?
I’ll have 20 people at my house Thursday. What kind of host would I be if I forced everyone to clear out by 8 p.m. so I can freeze my giblets off waiting to get a 52-inch TV at rock bottom prices? I guess that’s what paper plates and Saran Wrap are for. I’ll just tell the guests coming from New York and Savannah to slice the pie themselves and take a hunk in the car as I’m grabbing my wallet to be in front of a big box store by 9. They can hit me up on my cell phone if they want to actually catch up on my life.
I’ll have the next few hours to kill waiting for some sliding glass doors to part.
I never thought smoking a turkey would become a referendum on saving Thanksgiving. That’s because I never thought it would need to be.