The official holiday for gluttony is here, and it is going to look different. Out of an abundance of caution — I hear this phrase in my nightmares — my family has decided to shrink the guestlist for this year’s event. It will result in some classic Thanksgiving staples being absent from the party, and I’m not sure how I am going to make it.
For one, I will only have to answer the holy trinity of Thanksgiving questions one or two times this year instead of the normal amount, which is 11. For those wondering, the questions are as follows, in this order: How’s college life? What’s your major? Are you seeing anyone? The answers to those questions are the same this year as they are every year. They are of course: Good. Something meaningless. No, I just ate an entire pan of green bean casserole in four bites; people with a significant other don’t do that.
I will also be missing out on a large percentage of the thinly veiled, or not veiled at all, racist or fascist takes from relatives. The only thing more reliable at a white people’s Thanksgiving than a racist political conversation is the terrible attempt to make a joke out of the uncomfortable racist conversation. I will do that now.
These remarks can be mostly characterized as a “white people problem” since us white people have the market cornered on racist relatives. These statements are problematic not only for their general beliefs but also for the fact that those who say them feel comfortable enough to say them in our presence.
I will miss my cousin trying to defend “Mien Kampf” as a book for intellectuals while sitting underneath the sign in our kitchen that says “All are welcome.” For those wondering, no, he has not grasped the irony.
As with everything else in 2020, Thanksgiving will be another thing changed by the coronavirus. So try and enjoy your quiet, peaceful Thanksgiving, and if you want to spice things up a bit, get a new piercing before you go home. That’ll create a good two hours of conversation.