It's Thanksgiving....Remember What That Is?

This doesn’t really have anything to do with the Packers other than I’m asking for a Packers scarf for Christmas...

What? Are you surprised at my Christmas list, sir? Strong men also wear scarves... strong men also wear scarves.

　
So... this isn’t even really about Christmas, only tangentially, I just needed a Packer tie-in. Rather this is about Thanksgiving kicking Christmas’ ass back to December where it damn well belongs. A month ago, I was at the Home Despot, and I saw a giant Christmas display. Over the past month, I kept seeing more and more Christmas displays everywhere I went.

This disgusts me.

Thanksgiving, you have gotten soft. You have let elves and fat-men in red snowsuits creep into your lands. Turkey is no longer worshipped as the majestic poultry it is; it now plays second-fiddle to a piece of candy shaped like a hook...for shame. The coniferous trees, lights, and bulbs that are so arrogantly displayed everywhere, have weakened your resolve and made you sickly and fragile. Christmas has wandered without penalty or retribution all the way into mid-October, but still you rest on your fattened backside. You are based on two things that America loves, football and overeating, yet you cannot turn this to your favor, and Christmas continues to roundly defeat you at every turn. You have failed miserably at protecting your most devout followers from greedy invaders from The North Pole, mall gift-wrapping kiosks, and back-alley tree lots. While your people worship false idols, you do nothing. Thanksgiving, you have allowed the Detroit Lions and Dallas Cowboys to stain your hallowed reputation, and now you have invited the Bengals to openly ridicule you on a national stage. Your glorious bounty of potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberries, pumpkin pies, and turkey are mocked and scorned as being an antiquated diversion for people to endure while they secretly long to be buying gifts and hanging mistletoe. This is unacceptable.

If I didn’t love you so much, Thanksgiving, I would forsake you and wander away, vowing never to eat myself to sleep again.

But there is hope for you, Thanksgiving. It is time for you to nut-up, or shut-up. You need to grip the carving knife with both hands, hold it to Santa’s throat, and slowly walk Christmas’ ass back to Black Friday…at the earliest. You must purge the awful football that is played, you must put an end to people hanging Christmas lights immediately following their Thanksgiving feasts, and you must put an end to Carols on the radio before YOU decide it is time. It’s quite possible that someday you could force Christmas back to mid-December, but you need to win a battle before you can win a war, so for now, Black Friday it must be.

The time has come, Thanksgiving, to take November back, make it it yours again, and get back to being the kick-ass holiday that you are.

Now where the hell is that Christmas list...

Wild Turkey

The last few times the Packers have played the Lions on Thanksgiving, the games have been a little more than expected. But for the Greenfield’s, these particular days have been one for the books.

Nov 22, 2001: GB 29, DET 27
A Lions’ fourth quarter mad rally fell just short but the real story was that my sister was bringing her boyfriend for Thanksgiving she was really high on, so Grandma wanted to do something “special.” She saw an ad for Cornish game hens for like $1/piece at Piggly Wiggly so she thought it would be cool to give everyone their individual hen. Grandma Greenfield baked about twenty of them at the same time and when they were ready, each was plated with a side of mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. As we started cutting open the hens, it became evident why they were so cheap. Each hen was about 80% bone, vein and tendon so bad that by the time you surgically maneuvered around to the meat, it was nothing but chewy and gross. Embarrassed, Grandma begged him to come back for Christmas dinner where she would make it up to him, but they broke up before that came.

Nov 27, 2003: GB 14, DET 22
My cousin Chet brought over his dog he just adopted from the shelter a week earlier – a brown mut named Digger. Digger was more than happy to receive table scraps from anyone willing. Unfortunately, Chet forgot to mention Digger was on a strict diet. The table scraps didn’t agree with his stomach and he yacked up a few disgusting piles around the house. The smell was too much to bear so most of the Greenfield men ended up in the garage listening to the game over a case of High Life and a jar of honey roasted peanuts. It would’ve been OK except for the fact we had to listen to Favre turn the ball over four times in the second half en route to a crappy Detroit loss.

Nov 22, 2007: GB 37, DET 26
Favre and the Pack straight-up torched the Lions this Thanksgiving, but it was my Uncle Frank’s shenanigans that we love talking about. Uncle Frank couldn’t wait for Christmas, so he purchased a turkey fryer and invited us all over for the inaugural frying. Like the stubborn man he is, Frank decided he could bypass the directions and wing it because after all, “how hard can it be?” The first of the especially bad ideas was setting the fryer next to the garage. The next was dropping the turkey in the vat waaaaay too fast. The firey oil spewed over, bubbling onto his garage’s vinyl siding and melting it instantly. Frank freaked out and pulled out a kick reminiscent of the great Daniel LaRusso, knocking the fryer over and onto his driveway. His boot also briefly caught fire and before he could kick it that off, he suffered second-degree burns.

Always good times with the Greenfields on Thanksgiving with the Packers. I volunteered to host this Thursday. Should be interesting. Feel free to share your stories as well – I’d love to hear them.