What is it about holiday movies that we like? Is it seeing a family operate a smooth season, beginning with a cut turkey and ending successfully on a majestic winters’ morn, family gathered around the tree, opening gifts (gifts that everyone wants)?
No. That’s what greeting cards are made of.
Like with any story, we enjoy conflict in our holiday movie fare. A family’s holiday going terribly awry is why movies like A Christmas Story and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation stick with us. Whether it’s a house-full of guests we’d rather not have, a cat who chews through Christmas tree wiring and incinerates itself and the tree, or rampaging dogs destroying the holiday feast and leaving the family to dine out at a Chinese restaurant, we like these mishaps because they’re the same reasons our real-life holidays are memorable.
Most Christmases or Thanksgivings come and go without hitches, therefore, blending into one another: Was that Thanksgiving ’84 or was it ’86? Who knows, perfect holidays are lost to family history. It’s when the devil let’s himself loose through your holiday season that you remember the exact year, date, time, place, (clothing worn, for that matter), that we mark as standouts. And no matter how bad, they’re most laughable later.
This year’s Thanksgiving for my wife and I was nothing short of a pure mess complete with missed family engagements and a Chinese dinner for two.
Like with many businesses, the holidays are particularly busy for newspapers, both in advertising sales and editorial tasks. Simply, there’s more going on. And in newspapers, the holiday season is really Halloween through New Year’s. Yes, we enjoy the influx of editorial submissions and the increase in advertising sales, but by New Year’s, we’re tired and almost look forward to that January dip, despite that tax season is right around the corner.
But on top of all the normal work-related stresses, personally, the week leading up to this year’s Thanksgiving was especially difficult. Here’s the rundown:
I had a cist on my back pop, which was both a long-awaited relief and absolutely disgusting.
I discovered one, I repeat just ONE, of my teeth was severely stained on its backside, despite my dental cleaning in August. The remainder of my teeth are squeaky clean, no stains, so by contrast, it scared the life out of me. I thought the tooth had rotted through or something.
And last (don’t ask me how), I slammed my glasses in the car door, mangling them (I type this right now through squinted eyes).
Moreover, running a newspaper can be a somewhat sedentary lifestyle, and I’m used to a very slim physique. Lately, it’s been easier to opt for a bag chips and a hotdog than a healthy, balanced meal, so I gained a little weight. However, I have little tolerance for weight gain, so despite my lack of time, I put extra effort into cutting back my food intake and preparing healthier meals, and I’m now almost back to where I should be. So not to deprive myself, though, I allow myself to indulge in two situations: vacations and holidays (not the whole season, just the days themselves). In short, I had a large helping of juicy turkey in my crosshairs.
Needless to say, I was looking forward to a break on all fronts (from work, life, healthy eating), even if it was just for one Thanksgiving Day!
They say all is fair in love and war. They really should add holidays to that list, especially when you apply that saying to marriage.
Thanksgiving Day started out as normal and planned as any: I woke up. The day went downhill from there.
Because my family’s and my wife’s family’s holiday parties usually coincide, My wife and I are pretty good about balancing our attendance between the two: Alternate Thanksgiving year to year, Christmas Eve at my wife’s, Christmas Day at mine.
This year, it was my family’s turn for Thanksgiving, but due to low turnout on my wife’s side, we opted to skip my family’s and head to hers, especially because there were going to be more people at my family’s than normal, so meal planning was barely affected by our lack of presence. I informed my brother; he told us to have a great time, and we were set to go to my wife’s aunt’s house … when my wife became sick. She hadn’t been feeling well all morning (and for the last week, for that matter), but it got to breaking point about an hour before we were to head out the door.
“Honey, you know, normally it’s me who’s supposed to pretend sick at the prospect of seeing your family,” I joked.
She didn’t care for it.
Attending Thanksgiving was still a probability, albeit narrowing, but still viable. And by this point, I was looking forward to my wife’s aunt’s turkey (sorry to my family, on the turkey front, my wife’s aunt’s beats ours hands down).
But leave it up to my dog (remember her, Ruppy, the un-ailing, 13-year-old with never-ending food gripes and a chip on her shoulder?) to put the nail in the coffin on our Thanksgiving plans.
My wife opened the refrigerator, looking for something to drink, and therefore “signaled” Ruppy to the possibility of available food. Ruppy rushed over as if shot from a cannon, heedless of anyone in her way. My wife had to make an “emergency maneuver” so as not to get knocked off balance, and came down hard on her foot, twisting it.
I’ll admit here that for several hours from here on out, I was a bit of a baby. Okay, fine, I was a big baby. The day was ruined. We weren’t going to attend any Thanksgiving. And then, of course, the fighting started, which was briefly abbreviated only once by a canned-soup lunch.
Depressed, disappointed, disgruntled (all the best “dis-es”), I was bent on pulling off some manner of Thanksgiving whether anyone liked it or not. I rummaged through the refrigerator and pantry, producing, to my surprise: stuffing, one sweet potato, and turkey gravy. We were just missing the turkey. Fine, it was getting on late, but we had enough time to buy a turkey, throw it in the oven, and call it a Thanksgiving Day!
Leaving in the middle of an argument, I slammed out the door and headed to any store open. I picked up a pecan pie and headed straight for the turkeys and … they were all frozen. There were, however, thawed turkey breasts in a bag, but they were upwards of $18. I’m sorry, on principal alone, I wasn’t going to spend $18 on just a breast. As a result, I took my pecan pie and returned home dejected, defeated, and detached.
My wife and I kept our distance until about 7:30 p.m. with the first marginal efforts of truce. I was accepting the day and my wife and I were getting hungry.
If there’s one reason I love my wife, it’s because we think alike, a lot alike.
We still needed to eat however, and we both wanted something enjoyable, and together we went as far away from a traditional Thanksgiving dinner as we cold think: Chinese.
I knew Chen’s Chinese Cuisine (our usual Chinese place) was closed, so I grabbed the phone book and, as it suggests, let my fingers do the walking. I found one open: China Dragon I in Algonquin, not far away.
In minutes I was out the door, and only minutes later, I pulled up to the door to find the entire staff headed for their cars!
Ignoring that I saw them turn the lights off, I got out, hoping that perhaps these were guests leaving rather than the staff and that the place was still open.
“Are they open?” I asked the group.
“You want to place order,” one asked back.
“Yes, if you’re open.”
“No power,” another said back.
No power?
“Come in,” they told me. “Come in. No power. Place order.”
How can I place an order if you have no power? I wondered, as I followed the whole group into the restaurant.
They pointed me to the register and told me to order right as they turned the lights back on.
“Are you sure,” I asked.
“Yes, no power,” the owner said slower this time. Through his heavy accent, I finally understood what everyone was saying: “No problem.”
(In no way am I making fun of a Chinese accent or dialect. I simply misunderstood.)
I placed my order, and ten minutes later, I was handed a hot bag of terrific-smelling food. The entire staff shut the lights and walked me out.
I was so touched by the whole experience that they made me forget about the entire day and about the entire past week, which is what I was aiming for all along. Just to get a break!
The night ended with my wife and I laughing about the day, talking together, and, of course, eating pecan pie. Most of all, the food was excellent, and like the best part of all Thanksgivings, we had plenty of leftovers.
Chris La Pelusa
Managing Editor
(Thanksgiving translation in headline from Google Translate)
