Leftovers
By Sean McVeigh
As soon as the dinner table was cleared at our Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas music began to play. I’m not sure if someone had it queued up or not, but it was a seamless transition that would’ve even impressed DJ Poppa D. Thanksgiving always gets forgotten about before the sun rises on Black Friday. Here we are one week out, and it feels like that was a century ago. As my uncle said this year, Thanksgiving is “just a bump in the road” on the way to Christmas — a thought I feel is shared by many. Well, I won’t stand for it.
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays for many reasons, not least of them being the extremely versatile leftovers. As with the food, I have a few leftover Thanksgiving thoughts I’d like to touch on if you’ll allow me. Last week I bored most of you with a verbose commentary on American exceptionalism. Today I promise to keep it to the usual half-page.
Let’s start with the brainchild behind, and namesake of, this week’s article: leftovers. There are few things better than a leftover turkey sandwich stuffed with whatever else you’ve got in the fridge. I heard a great story this year: for the first time in many years, a family in Rockaway did not host Thanksgiving and were guests at a relative’s house instead. The next day, they were so thrown off by not having leftovers that they went out and bought a turkey and cooked it just so they could go about their normal post-Thanksgiving affairs. I can’t say I’ve respected a move more than that in some time.
The leftovers, ironically, are just the beginning. What it all comes down to is that Thanksgiving is just Christmas without all the pressure of gifts and decorations and movies and music and, well, the pressure! It’s an American holiday that predates America. It’s a religious holiday without any specific religion baked in. And, if all else fails, you can always think about the lesson of persistence that Sarah Hale exemplified in writing for decades to United States presidents arguing for Thanksgiving to be a national holiday. She started with Zachary Taylor, and it was not until Abraham Lincoln, in the midst of a civil war, that her wish came true.
I suppose the beauty of Thanksgiving is that because of its simplicity, one day it is here and the next it is gone. I won’t cry because it’s over, I’ll smile because it happened. I’ll just have to wait another year to regale you with more of my Thanksgiving veneration.
As if it were an option, it’s time to take my medicine and accept that the Christmas season has begun. It’s either go willingly or risk getting involved in some sick Santa-themed version of “A Clockwork Orange.” As I put my finishing touches on this article, my wife and I are in the process of decorating our Christmas tree. Well, to be honest, like most good things that get done around our humble abode, my wife is decorating the Christmas tree while I take a more supervisory role off in a corner. I am like an NFL fullback when it comes to tasks like these around the house: I’m not much use most of the time, but every once in a while, I’ll get called in to make a game-changing block or hang the star on top of the tree because my quarterback isn’t tall enough. Not my best metaphor, but I think you get the idea.
Until next year, Thanksgiving!
