Top 5 Likely Thanksgiving Topics (and how to be the deserving center of attention)
I hope this post doesn’t arrive too late to save/spare the majority of my readers (i.e., both of you, and screw Reader #3), but I’m not exactly working under a deadline. If anyone’s willing to kick some money toward my efforts, I’d happily stay up later on a Wednesday.
Today, most Americans will partake in a Thanksgiving meal; now, whether you’re gathering with immediate family, or the in-laws, or various members of your AA support group, you will most likely congregate in numbers of four or greater — and you’ll most likely discuss one, if not some variation, of the below subjects. Thanksgiving is the chatty holiday — you simply cannot escape offering your point of view on some inane, straight-from-the-headlines topic. As such, I’ll endeavor to alert you to any possible pitfalls, and — should the warm glow of popularity appeal — suggest how you might trump any subsequent debate.
1. Politics
The Democrats took Congress and the Senate! (Yay or boo, respectively.) Rumsfeld got kicked to the curb! (See previous paranthetical comment.) Rangel’s proposing a draft — again! (Ibid.)
Look, there’s a reason I hardly ever contribute to the Politics category: lord knows, I read enough to be well-informed, but I don’t feel qualified to offer more than the occasional, apathetic grunt. Whatever your clan opts to discuss, there’s going to be some friction at the table. Let’s say, for example, you do broach the subject of Rangel’s draft — I bet someone knows someone who’s stationed in Iraq, and is currently on his third tour, and the gang grows silent. Yeah.
People are going to disagree — that’s why we all get to vote. (NB: it’s always worth asking for a show of hands, who voted? If someone didn’t vote, you should loudly ignore anything that person has to say on the subject.) Maybe it would be best to discuss the Presidential turkey pardon? D’you think Bush decided against it? Hell, it’s not like he had any qualms executing retards in Texas; that turkey’s probably being water-boarded within an inch of its life in some sub-basement of the White House.
(Extra Super Smart Bonus Factoid!!!: Truman was the first president to pardon a turkey. I bet no one else at your table knew that.)
2. Celebrity Culture
It can’t be avoided. From what I’ve seen/heard recently, you’ll probably be discussing either (a) Michael Richards’ racist comments, (b) Brittney and Fed-Ex, or (c) Clay Aiken slapping his gay, gay hand over Kelly Ripa’s mouth. Shesh — who gives a flying fuck?
Daniel J. Boorstin defines a celebrity as “a person who is well-known for his well-knownness.” (Think Paris Hilton.) People make racist comments; people get divorced; and people rudely interrupt each other — hey, all of that might be featured at your dinner table, if you’re lucky! There’s no reason to acknowledge these very public shows of stupidity and/or insensitivity, other than that the people I’ve mentioned above are uniformly well-known for being well-known. When Aunt Madge covers Uncle George’s mouth during desert, it won’t be featured on tomorrow’s Access Hollywood.
Try this: what about those celebrities we never hear about? I always think of Keanu. He’s got more money than god — thanks to the Matrix trilogy — he’s single, and I believe he’s in a band: how good is his publicist? You never hear a freaking peep about Keanu! What kind of shit is he getting up to? Discuss.
3. The Person Conspicuously Absent From Your Table
Maybe Uncle George skipped bail, and Aunt Madge has got to brave the extended family alone. Maybe you really do have a friend in Iraq — or a brother, or sister, or cousin. Or maybe that person’s gay, and no longer welcomed by the family patriarch. Or maybe it’s something entirely innocent, like your cousin’s got croup (does that date me?), and had to stay home. Whatever the reason, someone’s missing. It’s evident to everyone else. And, depending on the circumstances, there’s a four-in-five chance it’s going unsaid.
Say something. Say you miss that person. Or just say you wish s/he was there. It’s important. Work it into “what I’m thankful for,” if that’ll provide you adequate cover. But the person who’s missing — even if it’s by choice — is missing, and when it’s allowed to go unsaid, it doesn’t take very long before that person’s no longer missed.
4. Fantasy Sports
I know — how does he follow-up #3? That’s right: fantasy sports.
Look, everyone’s heard about it by now; in fact, anywhere somebody at your table probably has a team — if not numerous teams. This being November, that person’s probably engaged in Fantasy Football (or, if that person’s a sucker — like me — Fantasy Basketball). Allow him or her to explain to the uninitiated what’s meant by “fantasy,” how it’s scored, etc.; however, as soon as s/he starts name-dropping, or starts lamenting how Culpepper killed his/her season last year, step in.
Point out that there are manifold examples of fantasy gaming: NASCAR, golf, even Fantasy Fashion. (Me, I’m presently in a Fantasy British-Rules Football league while I weather the months until pitchers and catchers report. I think I’m even in second. The dynamics of the league vaguely evoke the slave trade, which is disconcerting — every time I “trade” a player, I hope to god I’m not impunging my future career in politics. And then I think, “Oh. Wait.”)
You’ve got a few people seated around a table — how could this be turned into a fantasy competition? Who gets up to pee the most often? Who drinks the most? You know your flock; adapt the scoring as you see fit.
5. “What I’m Most Thankful For”
As already mentioned, briefly, above. Tradition may dictate that you take turns prior to the meal, or afterwards — while everyone’s stuffed, and most thankful for two-ply toilet paper — but it’s coming. Here’s my suggestion when it comes to this subject of conversation: don’t leave anything out.
Which isn’t to say, hog the conversation; only, don’t aim for that one, big blessing, then expectantly turn to the person on your left. It’s natural — and so, so lucky — to be thankful for something like an addition to the family, whether by birth or formal ceremony, but don’t dismiss something for being mundane.
Thanksgiving may be the only time of year when you focus on what you’re thankful for without having it taken from you, first. You’re thankful in the present tense, if that makes any sense. So, don’t take forever with it, but get it all off your chest. Respect your good fortune — stare into your lap if you’re embarrassed — and give voice to everything on the list. Trust me, you’ll be thankful.
Now, go watch some football, America. Happy Thansgiving.
