And it ain't Christmas.Christmas is an especially stressful time of year (c'mon, you know you look a...

1. Vic Dillinger's Thanksgiving Day Bash!
And it ain't Christmas.
Christmas is an especially stressful time of year (c'mon, you know you look at it with that sense of
looming, gnawing dread). On any stress scale, right up there with spousal death and divorce is
the "holiday" of Christmas.Â
Holidays are supposed to be fun and joyous; Christmas is a time of angst and financial ruin,
though. All meaning is lost - if I were Jesus I'd be pretty ticked off about it. I mean, how would
you feel, on your birthday, if people all stood around giving each other gifts? [Never mind the other
things that are all wrong about Christmas: December 25 is not Jesus' real birthday; it's a pagan
holiday subverted by the Church to make the converts quit their pagan stuff; etc.. That's a discussion
for another time.]
Hallmark Hell
Hallmark holidays (those bogus holidays contrived to do nothing more than lighten the load in your
wallet by guilting you into "feeling" something you probably don't, Â but you fork over gifts and
cards anyway) are the greatest of bottom feeders.Â
Valentine's Day, Mothers' Day, Fathers' Day, Groundhog Day, Grandparents' Day, et al - the calendar
is choked with these meaningless superficialities. [I'm still yarked over Groundhog Day - I send
that danged Punxsutawney Phil "Happy Groundhog Day" cards and little gifts every year, and he
never even sends a thank-you note. He could at least call].Â
And before you even think about getting all bunged (pronounced "bunj'd" with the soft "j" sound) up
over my slamming Mothers' Day, consider the facts. In the first place we don't need a "Mothers'"
Day, what we need is a "Women's Day". Mothers' Day leaves out all those hotties who happen to
know what birth control is - unfair, I say!! Secondly, the very woman who so strenuously lobbied to
have Mothers' Day recognized as a true celebration of motherhood came to hate it and lobbied just
as strongly to have it removed from the calendar!!
Anna Jarvis, an American minister's daughter, was born in 1864 in Grafton, West Virginia. She was
what the Victorians called a "spinster" (a very ugly term with many negative connotations). She
was a teacher, and she was pathologically devoted to her mother (like Norman Bates, Elvis, and
people of that ilk that just "love they mama" more than anything on the earth).Â
Jarvis was childless; she was "horrified" (her word) to see adult children "neglecting" (also her word)
their mothers. She made it her goal to change this attitude and indifference. She thought that
one day each year should be set aside to pay tribute to all mothers, using the maudlin justification,
"theirs is the only love that asks for no return". [Puh-leeze - talk to Casey Anthony about a
mother's love. Or Ma Barker.]
Jarvis and her sainted mother moved to Philadelphia, and she carried her Mothers' Day idea with
her. She agitated locally, and started a massive letter-writing campaign, enlisting supporters and
writing hundreds of letters to Congress, clergy, labor leaders, doctors, and mayors.
Nothing much was done until the media drive of her own mother's death brought the idea to the

2. fore again. On May 10, 1908, Jarvis arranged for memorial services to be held on her mother's
behalf in both Grafton and Philadelphia. White carnations had been her mother's favorites, so
Jarvis had them distributed at those very first services. This was the first Mothers' Day and
because it happened to be the second Sunday in May, this was the date selected for the future (the
second Sunday in May).
Her over-sentimentality caught the public's attention. She continued to lobby for the day.  She
and a group of followers initiated a campaign, with politicians and administrators falling in line.Â
They used many methods of "persuasion" none more effective than emotional extortion: anyone not
pro-Mothers' Day "just did not love his [or her] mother".
In 1910, the governor of West Virginia introduced Mothers' Day in his state. Several other states
were cowed into following suit, with the ultimate guilt trip thrown at then-president Woodrow
Wilson. On May 9, 1914, he caved in to the pressure and made Mothers' Day official throughout
the United States, keeping the "second Sunday in May" date.
This holiday became a juggernaut (it is the second most commercially viable Hallmark holiday; only
Valentine's Day generates more cash). Jarvis saw what happened to "her" holiday, and as early as
the mid 1920s she was already beating a drum to get rid of it. She spent the rest of her life railing
against this golem of hers, agonizing over the fact it was not celebrated as she intended.Â
She was probably a little more than steamed, too, that she got no credit for the idea and was largely
forgotten (meaning, no money was coming her way). What little money she had of her own Jarvis
spent fighting a losing campaign against the commercialization of "her" day. She drove herself to
poverty; friends had to pay for her upkeep. She was placed in a nursing home (which friends paid
for). Having lost her eyesight, she spent the rest of her days in the facility, dying there at the age
of 84 in 1948, a bitter old woman hating her creation. Mothers' Day, of course, continues to
generate much lucre.
Valentine's Day, its sloppy sentiments aside, is the worst of all the Hallmark holidays. I don't need
Valentine's Day to remind me I love my wife/girlfriend/woman I brought home five hours ago from
the gun show. Valentine's Day is not a private, romantic idyll between two unselfish lovers (as it
should be). Instead, it is an over-the-top display of crass conspicuous consumption, and the
"look at me" element cannot be denied.Â
How many men have sent flowers to a woman's place of employment? This is nothing but a selfish
bid to draw attention publicly to the gift giver. Guess what, ladies? Any guy that does that is
bucking for a pat on the head. He may actually love you, but his love for himself overrides that.Â
He wants the world to know what a great guy he is, not how much he loves you.Â
Trust me, menfolk: if you're going to be stupid and waste a boatload of money for flowers and
trinkets on Valentine's Day (even though you should love and cherish your woman every damn day,
not on just one "special" manufactured day) SEND THEM TO HER HOUSE WHEN SHE IS HOME
ALONE!! She will understand better in that smaller gesture how much you actually do love her
rather than with the overtly public ego stroking of gifts delivered in front of an audience. The
impact on her will be far greater and certainly more sincere. This is inarguable and not open for
further discussion (although you are free to talk among yourselves). I know of what I speak
(because I love women, and I also do not need public adulation to validate how awesome I am).
The Hallmark holidays are stinkeroos for another reason. The best three things in human existence
cannot be found in any of the Hallmark holidays: sex, sex, and sex.Â

3. No, actually, the best three things in life are sex, sleep, and food!! And one holiday guarantees you
at least two out of the three best things (or all three depending upon how suave and debonair, or
drunk, you are). And that holiday is the most wondermous Thanksgiving Day.
Turkey Day Basics
Holidays should not be torturous or seem like Eternal Damnation on Earth. They should not be
times of agitation or stress, but generally they are (ask the Manson Family just what holidays were
like around their hippie-scum campfires). But, they can be fun, and a good time can be had by one
- usually only me because I have fun everywhere I go - or all.Â
The holiday that marries all good things into one is Thanksgiving Day. Stress? What stress?
Barring the annoyance of your "slow" Uncle Bubba Ray (drinking directly from the gravy boat again,
when you keep telling him shot glasses are wayyyyy classier) there's not much to agonize over on
Thanksgiving.Â
It's the holiday of eating and lapsing into a tryptophan-induced coma from eating too much turkey,
and for groping the women (whose presence on the planet is the only thing I'm thankful for,
ever). That groping thing is probably something only I do on Thanksgiving, but for everyone else
you get food and sleep, 2/3 of the total greatest things picture. But, as in all holidays (and
Thanksgiving is no exception), there is evil lurking in the [turkey] wings.

4. Native Americans loathe Thanksgiving Day. They have been vocal in their distaste for decades.Â
Hmmmm . . . I can't imagine why they're so upset, but let's go back into the past and take a look at
Thanksgiving's origins in America and we'll see if we can find out . . . [Insert cheesy time-travel
special effects here]:
Truth in Advertising
The Germanic language in its honesty and bluntness many times can be downright brutal.Â
Germans, for example, have a single word, backpfeifengesicht, that translates into "a face badly
in need of a fist". That's right: "a face badly in need of a fist". Think about that - if we had such
a word in English I would use it every waking hour of every day to describe accurately how I feel
about Justin Bieber. It is eloquent.
So, too, the forthright Germans have another brilliant and concise word that I love,
Schadenfreude. This translates roughly into "deriving pleasure from the misfortunes of others".Â
And it is Schadenfreude that lies behind the Puritan's veneration and commemoration of the earliest

5. Thanksgiving celebrations.
The Spanish were here first (but for a few odd circumstances and a lotta Spanish wussiness, we
would all habla Español today and not English). The Puritans were not the first or most
successful of the early colonizers but they were excellent communicators and self-promoters. Their
history is better known than most colonizers, including the earlier Spanish, because they made a
point of not-so-humbly blowing their own horn almost as soon as they set a silver-buckled, black-
shod foot upon Native American soil.
Schadenfreude led the way to the first sense of Thanksgiving (not the feast itself but the sentiments
behind it). The first Puritan colony barely survived its first winter here, and that was only
through the help and intervention of the Native Americans living in their area.Â
To show just how ill-prepared the pilgrims were for the New World, these "enlightened" religious
crackpots brought many Bibles and other things of irrelevance to start new lives; among the lot not
one of them, however, brought a simple set of fishing gear or a plow! ["How doth thy boiled Bible
taste there, Malachi?" "Tis quite delectable, Goodwife Prudence. But, I must sayeth, I would kill
for but one trout!"]Â
Although co-existing grudgingly, the Native Americans bartered and often simply gave foodstuffs to
the starving little group that first year. Once the Puritans learned the Natives' growing techniques
(and actually applied themselves to something other than contemplation of Providence and enforcing
pillory timetables) they survived on their own.

6. The first Thanksgiving in America, of course, was not called that. Harvest festivals and feasts have
existed for millennia, and the bounty of a good year demanded celebration universally. In mid-
October 1621 (about ten months after landfall) the Puritans had much for which to be thankful.Â
They'd just suffered through a terrible winter, one of deprivation, "general sickness", and many
deaths. They had good neighbors (the Native Americans who helped the Puritans). Their first
complete season of growing was successful and the harvest was good (again, thanks to the
Natives). A celebratory feast was certainly in order. Schadenfreude entered their giving of
thanks as well - they were grateful that their Native neighbors were having difficulties and many
were succumbing to disease brought by the Puritans to the New World.
Indians historically (and this seems to be anthropologically proven in almost every primitive
society) had a sense of community and communal sharing that is hard to grasp.Â
The father of pioneer girl, Laura Ingalls Wilder, was an oddball named Charles Ingalls. He made
the mistake of foolishly settling in Kansas' Indian Territory illegally when Laura was quite young
(before the idealized Walnut Grove days fictionalized in the television series). Charles was a
strange bird who didn't always do his homework. He knowingly settled on land given by the US
Government to the Native Americans (the Ingalls were later forced off the place by the US Army).Â
Mrs. Ingalls reported on the natural curiosity of her swarthier land mates. But the Native sense of
communal sharing terrified her: Indians sometimes showed up at the Ingalls' cabin without
warning. They would go through her dry goods in silence, and perhaps would take some sugar or
flour and then leave. This was not stealing in the traditional sense. For starters the Ingalls family
was living on Indian land at the Indians' pleasure. Secondly, the Native culture didn't recognize
ownership in the same way Europeans did.Â
Charles recalled sitting in their cabin one evening when an Indian he had never seen before came
into his prairie cabin, produced a pipe, squatted down on the hearth, and indicated for Charles to
light him up. Charles gave him a bowlful, they smoked quietly, and then the Indian took Charles'
grouch bag of tobacco with him and left. Charles later learned this man was a member of a chief's
family and it was considered an honor to have shared his pipe (and Charles' "gift" of tobacco).
The Puritan festival was supposed to be a religiously solemn celebration. The local Native
Americans (contrary to the romanticized version of these two contentious factions calling a truce
and breaking bread in peace) were not invited nor were they welcomed.Â
They did crash the party, however, in typical Native American communal sharing fashion. And they
brought friends. And more friends. And soon there were more Native Americans than Puritans
celebrating. The simple feast became a real shindig with games, sporting events, the firing of
guns, and the sounding of bugles. And the planned one-day celebration extended to at least three
days.Â
Now, I ask: which Thanksgiving celebration would you rather have attended? The original Puritan
one, or the one with the party crashers? [I'll take "I Like Native Americans" for $200, Alex.]

7. But this was not all bunnies and rainbows as it might seem on the surface. This camaraderie did
not last, and as time wore on the Schadenfreude of the Puritans toward the natives grew
exponentially. As proof, when the New Englanders decided to make official a day of giving thanks
the Schadenfreude is clear. In the edict setting the event, note the italicized phrases [highlighting
is mine] and ask yourself about their meaning:
 "The Holy God having by a long and Continual Series of his Afflictive dispensations in and by the
present Warr with the Heathen Natives of this land, written and brought to pass bitter things against
his own Covenant people in this wilderness, yet so that we evidently discern that in the midst of his
judgements he hath remembered mercy, having remembered his Footstool in the day of his sore
displeasure against us for our sins, with many singular Intimations of his Fatherly Compassion, and
regard; reserving many of our Towns from Desolation Threatened, and attempted by the Enemy, and
giving us especially of late with many of our Confederates many signal Advantages against them,
without such Disadvantage to ourselves as formerly we have been sensible of, if it be the Lord's
mercy that we are not consumed, It certainly bespeaks our positive Thankfulness, when our Enemies
are in any measure disappointed or destroyed; and fearing the Lord should take notice under so
many Intimations of his returning mercy, we should be found an Insensible people, as not standing
before Him with Thanksgiving, as well as lading him with our Complaints in the time of pressing
Afflictions:
The Council has thought meet to appoint and set apart the 29th day of this instant June, as a day of
Solemn Thanksgiving and praise to God for such his Goodness and Favour, many Particulars of
which mercy might be Instanced, but we doubt not those who are sensible of God's Afflictions, have
been as diligent to espy him returning to us; and that the Lord may behold us as a People offering
Praise and thereby glorifying Him; the Council doth commend it to the Respective Ministers, Elders
and people of this Jurisdiction; Solemnly and seriously to keep the same Beseeching that being
persuaded by the mercies of God we may all, even this whole people offer up our bodies and souls as
a living and acceptable Service unto God by Jesus Christ."

8. [First Thanksgiving Proclamation, June 20, 1676. Courtesy of US Historical Documents Archive]
Note the "Christian" love-thy-brethren sentiments in this document (most notably in referring to the
natives as "heathen", thus reducing them ideologically to sub-human levels). The highlighted
passages underscore what's really going on here. The New Englanders believed the New World
was destined for them (they refer to themselves in the document as "Covenant people"). It was
meant as theirs by divine right. They are establishing a day of Thanksgiving not solely for their
own good fortune but more in thanks for the misfortunes of their neighbors, the Native Americans.
Schadenfreude!! [Gesundheit!]
The Kiddie Table
So now you know why Native Americans hate Thanksgiving (or at least one reason). But here's
why I love it: except for the food preparation you really don't have to strain yourself to celebrate.Â
It can be a time of laughter and arguments and good times but for that one moron who can't seem to
understand, while it's okay to loosen your belt, it's not okay to take off your pants. [Oh, wait, that's
me! Never mind.]
To start with, Thanksgiving was observed sporadically. But, as in Mothers' Day, it was a woman
who lobbied to make it a national holiday. Finally, in 1863, President Lincoln issued a
"Thanksgiving Day Proclamation", and it was made a regular annual national holiday. Thanksgiving
Day is celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November in the US.
America, Jr. (a/k/a/, Canada) also observes Thanksgiving, but they do it closer to the actual time the
first one really happened, the second Monday in October. [Which makes much more sense than
November. Nobody ever said we were too bright or big on the details - we're 'Merkins, gol dang
it!]
Canadians had their first version of it in 1763, when the citizens of Halifax, Nova Scotia, celebrated
the Treaty of Paris (wresting Canada from those silly French and giving it over to the less silly
British). In Ontario, Thanksgiving Day was first observed in June 1816, in appreciation for the end
of the war between Great Britain and Napoleon. The Canadian Parliament, in 1879, proclaimed it
an annual holiday for Canada. After mucking around with the dates it finally settled into its current
place in October in 1957.
Christmas has all those drippy Christmas carols. Thanksgiving, though, has only one song.Â
Most people lump it into the Christmas dreck, however. It's "Over the River and Through the
Woods" ("to Grandmother's house we go . . . "). It's Thanksgiving's only hit - we need more songs
for this holiday, specifically songs about pie.
In America, all families have their traditions and routines. An element of commonality is the
dreaded Kiddie Table (if you're a kid). This is where all the snot-noses usually sit and strap on the
feedbag. As a child your goal is to graduate to the Big Table where the adults sit. That, sadly,
can take a long time. It usually requires the natural death or assassination of a senior table
member before a post opens up. But be patient, kids!

9. Another grand tradition is watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This is a somewhat
newer tradition (if you call within the last 100 years newer - compared to the year 1621, you bet).Â
The televised parade, though, is much better than seeing it live on the streets of New York. It's
wayyy cozier to watch everything from the comfort of your home rather than hobnobbing with the
sticky masses.
An annoying, even newer "tradition" is the insertion of American football into the schedule,
equating it with Thanksgiving Day. This irks me beyond reason. Football takes 79 hours to play a
game that on its clock is supposed to run an hour. The last 15 seconds of any game takes 34
minutes. I would rather watch paint dry than sit through the crushing, soul-destroying boredom of
this man-on-man "action" that passes for entertainment (and that includes the Superbowl, an
exercise in hyper-inflated, bloated commercialism if ever there was one).Â
Along with my disdain for football, there is another creepy practice. I do not now engage, nor ever
have engaged, in the bromantic pastime of male-bonding. Bromance and hanging with "the boys"
is not for me. If I'm in a place where the men all eat and then adjourn to watch football in some
man cave afterward (excluding the women) I'm so outta there. I'll leave if I can. If I can't, I'll go
find the women of the house and see what they're up to (usually more interesting, plus it might lead
to the other item on the three best things in life list).
I hang with the ladies, girls, hot aproned maidens. [This lovingness works best if you're not
attending a dinner with your female relatives. That danged Uncle Bubba Ray - I've had to pry him
away from his teenaged niece, Cheri Lou, too many times. "Cheri" is pronounced "cherry", by the
way. Other people's female relatives are all prime pickin's, however.]
No matter what your household eats or does, just remember Thanksgiving is supposed to be a
time of giving thanks for your own fortune (and not for the misfortune of others like the Puritans
did). We are truly blessed in this country - let's focus on that fact and not the crapulous, boring
football games.Â
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