Right now I am sitting at the dining room table with an iPad and a keyboard. Made breakfast of eggs bacon and toast a little bit ago. Because it is Thanksgiving I don’t think eating breakfast at 10 am was even a little bit wrong. On Thanksgiving there is no judgment.
Long time ago I gave up on cable. That means to watch the “parade” I would have to turn on the TV, go to the menu, mark it for antenna, and then put the rabbit ears up and wiggle them until the digital signal comes in clearly. I am not going to go that. Instead, I will simply remember the first time I saw Snoopy coming down the New York City avenue on an old black and white TV. My memory of the delight of that first view carries more electricity that a high definition image of the pores on the face of today’s hotness chanteuse.
In my memory I smell the turkey. Also I see my family over the years with one brother or another coming in wearing a uniform, but changing into civilian clothes and heading out with my father to do manly things, like collect laurel to go around the front door of the house as part of our Christmas decorations.
I also remember all the years of being in Toronto or London Ontario for this holiday. It isn’t Thanksgiving there and I was free to eat PEI mussels or lamb curry or elk steak. MMM elk steak with wild mushrooms. While my youngest’s job will keep us in the States today, he has to work at 7 pm, I will NOT BE EATING TURKEY. The local Indian restaurant will be serving a buffet of curries and other dishes that will definitely not be turkey.
In looking at Facebook I see my niece has asked how my father met my mother. Thing is they are both dead now and only my sister and maybe one of my cousins may have any insight. I know that my father was stationed at a military base at the edge of my home town in the 1930s. I know he was thick as thieves with a couple of guys, maybe two, maybe three who had interest in the daughters of Mr. Asher, my grandfather. I have no idea how the courting went.
The version my mother told of things always ended with the note that while my father was considering re-enlisting in the U.S. Army, she indicated she would not be around when he got back. So, he left the army and they got married in the late 1930s. She was always quick to point out that this was a good thing because his next posting would have been the Philippines, think Bataan.
My late brother, Jerry, told me a story that involved my father having a bit of a wild hare’s disposition. In addition to the getting out of the army bit, there was a straighten up and fly right demand. Don’t know all the details but I remember my father and my great Uncle Vance getting into some serious deep guffaws about some incident in NYC that involved a pistol and a woman who may or may not have been Warren G. Harding’s daughter. The existence of this story and of my father’s pointing out to me the table where he and Vance would sit at the Cotton Club (as I was watching a PBS special) lead me to believe there might have been such a condition put in place before marriage.
Jean Shepherd in “In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash”, wrote a long passage about his father’s passion for a cooking turkey. It is a memorable scene in a Christmas Story, you know the one where the Bumpus’s dogs make off with the turkey and the family has to eat Christmas dinner at a Chinese restaurant. The description of the smell of the bird and the old man’s longing for the bird written by Mr. Shepherd are as true of my experience relative to the Todd family Thanksgiving meal as any written. Only for me the whole meal was about the crescent rolls. Just keep those fancy Pillsbury rolls coming folks.
I wish you all the best this Thanksgiving. I believe I have a great many things to be thankful for including, but not limited to what appears to have been successful cancer surgery and a son about to graduate university. To the Asher family I offer this. Remember the holidays were always our best season. From Thanksgiving to the New Year we were as close as any family could be. Gobble, gobble.
For the benefit of my niece, here is a picture of your Grandfather and Grandmother Todd’s wedding.
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