By Wayne William Cipriano
Our Thanksgiving turned out to be a bit more exciting than we had planned. Old Tom and all the fixin’s, and the magnificent decorations and spectacular table setting with center-piece have never been previously equaled. The scene was set as traditionally as possible.
This Thanksgiving has been the locus of many new “rules” regarding table talk across the country but we decided, unfortunately as it turned out, limiting or censoring that which our guests found interesting to discuss was anathema to our family’s general spirit of freedom of expression. And since moderation will never have a place at our Thanksgiving Table, we just let ‘er rip!
And, rip she did. Who would have guessed a disappointed Democrat could do so much damage by denouncing “drivel” with a drum-stick? Should we have suspected that a Bernie-Boy would opt to throw the kumbaya moment of such a family gathering to the wind and demand an election “do-over” beginning right at the head of our table? Could we have foreseen what we all now understand as a natural enough reaction when a ribald Republican, rising to regale us with victory remembrances, was struck squarely between the eyes by a spoonful of yams expertly launched a full table length away?
The acceleration of anti-social action was awe-inspiring and put the speed of spread of a Northern California crown fire to shame. It was interesting to note that while laughter rules the younger set, an almost mathematical relationship could be established between increasing age and volume level of screaming.
The arrival of the police, both officious and amused, effecting the removal into custody of some (but not all) of the more flagrant revelers nicely added to the depth of this now-most-current Thanksgiving legend.
Once the broken crockery is swept up, the power-washing and wet-dry vacuuming completed, our plans for next year will begin in earnest. Who shall we add to this year’s guest list to ensure that next year Thanksgiving will be even more fun?
Want to come over?