Tomorrow, Nov. 27, is Thanksgiving Day in the United States. Right now I'm packing to go over to my parents' house. Tomorrow 14 of us, ages 8 to 80 (all related in various ways) will sit down to dinner. Guess who's helping my mother iron the good linen tablecloth and polish the silver?
For those of you not familiar with the holiday, the classic menu features mostly New World produce:
Roasted whole turkey (often with oyster or cornbread stuffing). Gravy. Mashed potatoes. Sweet potatoes (yams) in some form -- the classic American version is in a casserole topped with marshmallows, but my family thinks this is tacky. So one of my cousins brings elegant little orange halves stuffed with yam puree. Cranberry sauce.
Some sort of green vegetable -- we generally have green beans (haricots) with bacon (as opposed to the traditional, but dreadful, casserole made with canned cream-of-mushroom soup. I keep lobbying for bok choy or broccoli, and keep getting outvoted. Dinner rolls.
For dessert, pumpkin custard pie and apple pie. Alternatives are usually based on native fruits or nuts too, e.g. pecan pie or blueberry cobbler. (I'm bringing a cranberry-apricot pie this year.)
We wash it all down with lots of wine, mineral water, and sparkling cider.
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, not just for the food but the spirit.
San Francisco Chronicle columnist Jon Carroll explains why better than I can:
THANKSGIVING is comfortably free of the strident religious and/or militaristic overtones that give the other holidays their soft emanations of uneasiness.
At Christmas, for instance, we are required to deal with the divinity of Christ -- I know some of you folks have made up your minds about that one, but not me -- and on the Fourth of July we must wrestle with the question of whether all those simulated aerial bombardments represent the most useful form of nationalism available.
At Thanksgiving, all we have to worry about is whether we can wholeheartedly support A) roasted turkey, B) friends and C) gratitude. My opinions on these matters are unambiguous; I am in favor of them all. The "Squanto-give-corn" stuff has been blessedly eliminated from the iconography, so the thrill of Thanksgiving is undiminished by caveats, codicils or carps. That alone is something to be thankful for. Thanksgiving provides a formal context in which to consider the instances of kindness that have enlightened our lives, for moments of grace that have gotten us through when all seemed lost. [Continues here.]
[Another of Carroll's Thanksgiving columns:]
Gratitude is the antidote. It is useful in combatting a variety of diseases, from something as vague as the discontents of civilization to something as specific as personal grief. Thanksgiving is the holiday of gratitude, and I am always willing to celebrate it.
I sometimes think of civilization or society as a kind of floor, a patchy, rickety floor in constant need of repair. Below the floor is the chasm. Some people know that chasm well - those who have scrabbled to exist in war zones, those who have tried to cope after hurricanes or earthquakes, those who have lost multiple family members simultaneously. For them, the daily comforts of society are of little use. The network of routine, the solace of art, the hope for the future - none of it seems real.
Only the chasm seems real.
The chasm is only metaphorical, of course, but sometimes we live our lives entirely within metaphors. Our choice of metaphors is just a matter of taste. There's no right answer in this quiz, kids.
But still we have to get through the day. And, I am convinced, the route through the day is gratitude. Because there is always something to be grateful for, and that something is not in the chasm, it floats above the chasm, denies the importance of the chasm.
You choose: sunsets, apples, bedrooms in the morning, Bruce Springsteen, a child's second birthday, the smile on the face of a passing stranger, rivers, mountaintops, cathedrals, Shakespeare, Tina Fey, the curve of a thigh, the curve of a road, the nation of Switzerland, Carl Hiaasen, grass, orange, Bola Sete, jumbo shrimp, Pascal's theorem, Occam's razor, clean restrooms, potable water, penguins, French kissing or peanuts.
Can you feel the floor beneath your feet get sturdier? Can you see the holes being patched? For a moment, the bounty of the world overwhelmed you, and you were grateful to be alive at this moment. See? Antidote.
