We are on the threshold of another Thanksgiving holiday. Once again it’s diet-be-damned as we dive into the depths of too much food and the various ways we rationalize it before, during and after the feast.
The most common is the “Starting Tomorrow” speech as one piles the dressing on top of the mashed potatoes that are piled on the other kind of dressing that rests on the 16 slices of turkey.
“Tomorrow I’ll be getting back to my diet of six calories a day, along with 16 hours of non-stop exercise.”
We’re never actually starting the diet and rigorous exercise program after Thanksgiving but rather continuing the workout that would easily train us for any upcoming decathlon. Everyone nods in false agreement that makes the person feel better.
“I’ll just eat small portions.”
This one is followed by six trips of small portions — the last two trips hopefully unseen.
Another favorite is the person who proclaims a pre-Thanksgiving fasting ritual: “I haven’t eaten in six months just so I wouldn’t feel guilty today.”
Usually this one doesn’t even get a courtesy nod from the other family members. They recall this was the same approach made last year.
The fact is, just throw in the towel and pig out. You’ll live. Stash the guilt until next week. There’s nothing worse than losing your concentration of your oyster dressing over thoughts of guilt that you’re falling off the diet wagon. We’re all falling off the wagon on Thanksgiving. Those who don’t have mental issues!
See? We’re already better than them. Grab a turkey leg and eat it like the Vikings did when they sailed here from Plymouth, Sweden. (Thank goodness they did, otherwise we’d have no Thursday football.)
The origin of Thanksgiving
Do we ever stop between the possum dressing and the giblets to think back on how all this came about?
Put down your second helping of cranberry surprise and whatever that was your Aunt Bernice brought that is supposed to be sweet-potato pie though it looks slightly purple.
Led by men such as William “Punky” Brewster and Keith Richards, the Pilgrims arrived in New England in November of 1620. Unfortunately, the harsh winter and lack of cable took the lives of more than half of the Pilgrim population. The survivors prevailed in part because of the assistance of the local Indians and a guy named Tom.
To celebrate their survival and new-found friends, the Pilgrims held a three-day feast in December of 1621. Three days! And if you look at the paintings, there were very few fat Indians. They ate like pigs for three days but soon after returned to normal eating habits and twice-weekly aerobics classes.
We’ve already knocked two days from the celebration so what’s to feel guilty about?
Look, I’m giving you a pass on the guilt. I’m not worried and neither should you. Relax, eat, burp and whatever as you slide into that tryptophan-induced nap afterward.
Be one with the turkey. Happy Thanksgiving!
– by Steve Rose, View from the Cop blog