Prologue: I added this prologue
after finishing what follows. I notice this blog rambles more than usual and also
ventures off into dorm-room-style philosophy. That tends to happen when still overfull
the day after a big meal. I’ll post it anyway but should regain my focus by
tomorrow.
I’ve owned my current home
since 2001, and for the past two decades it has been my wont to host
Thanksgiving. Relatives plus a cadre of friends numbering between 12 and 18 would
fill my dining room and kitchen on that day. The friends were mostly, like
myself, single. The guests know each other but aren’t close friends otherwise in
a general way. It always has been an odd and eclectic mix, but everyone always
got along. Besides, I have the space to host the meal and I didn’t mind the
work since it was just once a year. But times change. Several of my former regulars
have found Significant Others along the way and now dine with them. No fewer
than three on my old guest list have passed on. Another undergoes physical rehabilitation
out-of-state following a freak accident. Another this year scheduled work on
Thanksgiving for the overtime pay. Two others have acquired special diets. Too
few of the rest remain for the critical mass that makes a party work except in
the case of family or the closest of friends. So, I abandoned my usual role of Thanksgiving
host – this year anyway. Maybe forever. (A future summer outdoor grill-fest is
still possible, but that is at least 7 months away.) I owe thanks to my aunt
for having hosted myself and one of my cousins for Thanksgiving this year. It
was pleasant and cozy.
During my iconoclastic 20s and
early 30s I made a point of scheduling parties and get-togethers on
non-traditional holidays. (OK, a little hint of this spirit still persists with
my occasional equinox or solstice party.) “Why should I blithely accept someone
else’s designation of a holiday?” I asked myself. “I’m perfectly capable of
choosing my own dates and reasons for celebrations as is each and every one of
us.” So we all are, but the trouble with this sort of individualistic – almost
existentialist – approach is that it is hard to get people to show up to your
party on what seems to them a random date. They may not have the day off from
work or may have plans for the next day. In consequence, as a practical matter,
I eventually gave in and started hosting traditional Thanksgiving, Halloween,
and Christmas parties, simply because more guests showed up for them. But, in
principle, I still sympathize with the views of my younger self.
Not in my oven this year |
Original Broadway cast of Hair
– Where Do I Go?
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