Stuff it, Thanksgiving
Wannabe holiday is for the birds

Stuff it, Thanksgiving
Addyson Santese - 11/23/2023


Thanksgiving blows.

There, I said it. Go ahead, chop my head off. Eviscerate me. Shove a handful of soggy bread crumbs up my – wait. That’s the turkey. Still, having to put any part of my body inside the rear end of a slimy, dead bird that’s basically one of the closest creatures we have to a dinosaur is just one of the many reasons I think we should decommission Thanksgiving.

For starters, it’s a middleman holiday. It gets us from Halloween to Christmas, but that’s why our lord and savior Tim Burton created “The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Cramming Thanksgiving between two of the holiday greats feels a bit cruel in the same way that making your 5-year-old nephew play defense against your heavyset uncle, drunk on craft beer and the idea that his manhood is at stake in a backyard football game. It feels cruel. The little guy doesn’t stand a chance.

And before you start getting your feathers all ruffled, gobbling at me about how great the day is, riddle me this: how many Thanksgiving movies can you name?

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

The truth is no one actually likes Thanksgiving. It’s the one time of the year you feel obligated to spend eight hours trapped in a kitchen coordinating a Michelin-star meal like you’ve suddenly become Gordon Ramsey but without the ability to scream at your in-laws for screwing up the gravy. Seriously? I gave you the easiest thing on the menu.

I’m convinced Thanksgiving is more of an exercise in self-flagellation than a day of celebration. I mean, just look at those sick weirdos who wake up early to do turkey trots. Is that the 10th circle of hell? Probably.

Let’s not forget the political minefield that is dinnertime (which takes place at 2 p.m. obviously). You’ll need to have the communication skills of a hostage negotiator to prevent an all-out civil war before dessert is served. Taking a quick break to scream into a hand towel in the guest bathroom after getting caught in the crossfires of your family’s diametrically opposing belief systems is just one of the many annual joys that Thanksgiving brings. Plus, there’s the whole business of having to go around the table and say what you’re thankful for.

Best of luck if you choose to say something other than generically acceptable lines like “my family” or “these sweatpants LOL!” Telling your family you’re grateful for endless seasons of “Too Hot to Handle” or the peace and quiet that comes with being childless or your new vibrator likely won’t go over well. It will certainly be memorable though. 

Bloodbath of the actual meal aside, the process of getting to and from wherever it is you’re going is also sure to be excruciating. Your flight will most certainly be canceled due to the “totally unpredictable” super blizzard that happens at the exact same time every year, and no, you won’t be able to connect to the airport’s WiFi to distract yourself for the next 12 hours. Enjoy sleeping on the floor of Chicago O’Hare with a gut full of white meat and regret! Can’t wait to do it all again in a month!

Look, I understand it’s tradition. Canceling Thanksgiving would rob you of the opportunity to drop a small fortune to travel cross-country during the ugliest time of year, then spend another small fortune on groceries that’ll be consumed in a matter of minutes. Really, I get it. It sounds amazing. But what if we didn’t do that? 

Plenty of other holidays have faded out of existence. Take Lupercalia. This ancient pagan fertility festival used to involve animal sacrifices, random hookups and whipping strangers with goat hides while they ran naked through the streets. And what about G?yl Mabsant, the Welsh equivalent of the Olympics but with way more alcohol and blindfolded wheelbarrow races? I bet jamming croutons into a bird butt is starting to sound pretty lame right now, huh?

This holiday season, make memories that’ll last. Ditch Thanksgiving. Bring back pagan sacrifices.

– Addyson Santese

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