Thanksgiving festivities are usually characterized by consumption of mass quantities among all those who celebrate it. For my whole life, our family - in conjunction with The Beast's side of the family - has taken this to astronomical proportions.
From the second we enter the door till the second we shamble out to our cars, there is non-stop food. Indeed, it's like a Roman Food Orgy except instead of a vomitorium, there's just a second room full of food. Vomiting is actually frowned on at one of these gatherings.
It is expected that intense training regimen, such as that done by Professional Eating "athletes," is adhered to in preparation for the celebration. In fact, vomiting at my family's Thanksgiving festivities is grounds for discharge from the family. It's a tough rule, but one we hold to strictly.
I remember back in 1987, our cousin Reggie was released from the family, and escorted out of the house, sans clothing, to fend for himself in the woods surrounding Port Orchard, Washington.
Poor Reggie.
Also, a staple of our extended family culture is the escalation of decibel levels throughout the night. I actually had no idea that people spoke using "indoor voices" at the dinner table until just a few days ago as I went with my roommate to his parent's house for Thanksgiving dinner.
Having been accustomed to such focused and dedicated gluttony and such uncompromising loudness for my whole life, I was first very surprised to see that one of the children in attendance didn't touch her food at all. In my family, this sort of blasphemy would have brought upon of us the fate suffered by Reggie back in '87. I was surprised to see that the child was not even scolded much less exiled into the night!
Next, I was learned quickly that customs were different when everybody grew alarmed as I shouted a filthy joke down the table (it being an obvious dysphemism for "passing the gravy," that even a toddler in my family could have picked up on).
Assuming them to merely be pacing themselves, I was astonished to discover that the proceedings not only refrained from getting louder, but actually grew quieter as the night wore on. In fact, by the end of the night, not a single person in the room was shouting!
With my impending nuptials, I begin to wonder if such displays of weakness - both in the stomach and in the vocal cords - are inherent in my fiancée's family tradition. I'm beginning to fear that this may very well be the case.
She will be accompanying me to our Christmas festivities this year, and I'm afraid she may not be prepared for our strict code of conduct.
But on the bright side, I think Reggie will enjoy the company.
1 comment:
Your blog is a hoot. I've been reading it and laughing out loud. My husband came in once to see why I was laughing. That's saying something because he was watching tv and usually doesn't hear anything else.
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