Thankless Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is the one holiday in which the meal takes six weeks to plan, three days to cook and five minutes and 30 seconds to eat so everyone can watch 10-hours of football. Contrary to popular wisdom, the sole purpose of the holiday is not giving thanks and togetherness. It is about football, and pie.

As the rest of the family prepares side dishes, sets tables or drinks spiked Dr. Pepper, a handful of football junkies gather around the 96-inch HDTV to get eyeball burn from instant replays and slo-mo action. After a full turkey meal, seasoned football lovers know how to portion a piece of pie so it lasts until Dallas Cowboy quarterback Tony Romo fumbles. That’s when some cousin says, “I want to watch Romo chokity-choke like he chokes every Thanksgiving.” Then a faithful Cowboy fan replies, “He’s 5-1 in Thanksgiving games. He don’t choke.” It will take a sturdy pie to stand up to this barrage for 10-hours.

And in 2012, I was the family member who received the task of getting the football pie. What a promotion that was from my normal thankless Thanksgiving job of de-boning the cranberry sauce
I strolled up the walkway to the front door and noticed a line of people standing outside. A young, smiling hostess greeted me asking what I wanted and I said a pie. Her smile faded when she pointed at the line of people, “So do they.” My jaw dropped and head automatically turned to the crowd who stared with lifeless expressions. Then she asked, “Do you have a reservation for a pie?” Almost speechless, I said, “Do I need one?” She held up a blue pad and said, “Yes, ma’am. Some of these people reserved pies weeks ago, but without a reservation, you may not get a pie today?”Again, my head turned to look at the pie people proudly holding their reservation slips. The hostess tried to speak but I just limped away past the blue slips blowing in the