Slim Randles
Happy Thanksgiving, world! One of my favorite days, but I couldn’t tell you why … exactly. Oh, it’s time to get the clan together around the table and compliment Grandma on how yummy the world’s dumbest bird is this year, like always.
The complete stupidity of the turkey is legendary. Of course, they have been domesticated since Miles Standish was in Pampers, and domestication gave them large breasts but didn’t help the thinking process much. You know, like some actresses we could name.
And of course, there is the family entertainment. We get to check out the elderly uncle to see if he’ll tell the same stories as last year and if he can keep cranberry sauce off his white shirt. It’s always fun to tease old folks, of course, because since I happen to BE the old folks these days, it sometimes hits close to home.
Some Native American tribes referred to November as the Hunger Moon. Sure has seemed to be that way for a lot of the people I know. Folks who don’t have a nine-to-five like smart people have. Outdoor-type folks just have to tolerate November until Thanksgiving, because then it’s okay to consider the remainder of November to be “almost December.”
Did you know that domesticated turkeys can’t reproduce without help? Yep. The tom turkey is now so heavy if he tried the traditional method on a hen he’d break her legs. Turkeys have to be bred artificially.
But fat or stupid or not, the turkey deserves our respect for one thing at least. There have been some changes over the past 250 years. There are today more turkeys in America than there are Pilgrims.
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