Suffering is somewhat of an institution in this world. We see it every day, and sometimes it hits close to home. As a celebrity, it is my responsibility to take a stand in these uncertain times, to end the suffering. Sarah McLachlan can sing all she wants about those smelly old cats, and Roma Downey can continue to scare those skinny African kids. I’m taking on a stance that hasn’t been addressed in the popular media yet: Thanksgiving dinner.
Thanksgiving is a so-called holiday, when we all get together as families to catch up on the year’s gossip. We all remember what happened during last year’s dinner, right? When Grandma accused your crazy aunt of spamming her email account with her latest multi-level marketing scheme? And your aunt bitch slapped her to kingdom come? Last year’s festivities feed the fire for this year, and this year feeds next. It's a vicious cycle of chain emails and ferocious bitch slaps.
Am I right?
There is one upside to this charade we call Thanksgiving: Chinese food. Let me explain:
Thanksgiving food is gross. Just putting it out there. Remember when the pilgrims landed at Plymouth and discovered that old car factory? Even though they had sweet rides, they had not yet build the drive-in burger joints to drive them to, and had begun to starve when winter came. Luckily, the Native Americans had a thriving food bank ready to go for such a circumstance. The Eagle Scouts of the tribe had gone around and collected the canned food goods, and were more than willing to give it freely. The pilgrims, being the fat, lazy Americans we know today, grabbed all the food they could, without regard for the quality or deliciousness of the food. This resulted in a gross collection of food to feast on, thus the tradition of cheesy funeral potatoes and candied yams was born.
Food that's not completely disgusting? Chinese food. Ever since I was knee-high to a Moon person, I've always sought to find my favorite food at the Thanksgiving day buffet, but to no avail. When I turned 16 and was old enough to just drive and drive, away from the foolishness that is cornbread stuffing, I found myself at a P. F. Chang’s. I was the only white person there, which was no surprise. I usually am, even when it’s not Thanksgiving. This haven is where I experienced the greatest Thanksgiving feast of my life!
Orange chicken, egg rolls, chow mein, yum! Since that day, I have made it a tradition to have Chinese food on Thanksgiving. I mean, if everyone else gets to have their favorite "candied yams" and homemade "stinky-foot green bean casserole", I get to have my beef and broccoli, and my cashew pepper chicken.
This year, I plan on bringing home some take out ham fried rice and sweet and sour sauce to the feast in order to enlighten the other guests to a new way of thinking. My goal? Eliminate the awful tradition of nearly burning down the house, which is quite a steep price to pay for a disgusting, dry turkey. Eliminate the fighting, the gossiping, and the gastro-intestinal distress. I mean, that much mashed potatoes must stay in there for a while, right? With Chinese food, you could feast every hour, on the hour, because you'll just be hungry again later. That is much better than some disgusting cranberry sauced wheat roll or something.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for shit. I’m just a huge fan of decent food.
Please, I beg of you. Help stop the suffering. This holiday, you can save lives by bringing some Chinese barbecued pork to your family dinner tomorrow. Your family will be "Giving-Thanks" to you!
Originally published in My House on the Moon © 2013 Robodino Press. Used with permission.
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