So he said to Adrian on their first date in the first “Rocky” movie, as they went out on Thanksgiving evening. Living in England, where the holiday is not recognized, I echo the same sentiment, and I don’t miss the torment that was the preparation for what has become more a preamble for the Christmas shopping season than a commemoration of anything more significant. Let’s not hide it under the garb of the celebration of the triumph of a group of about 100 immigrants 380 years ago. Since its declaration by Congress in 1941 as a legal holiday, it has merely become a chance for families to get together and scarf down mounds of food, then have an extra day off to hit the shops and get the jump on the latest “gotta-have” gimmicks.

                     The story, as told to us in grade school, was of the Pilgrims, members of one of England’s Separatist churches, fleeing England to escape religious persecution. They first fled to The Netherlands, but found Holland morally unsettling (A lot of people today would feel that way!). Through pooling some funds together, a group of 102 were able to buy the Mayflower vessel and transport themselves to the American coast. They docked at Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts, on December 11, 1620, not a good time of ANY year to be in that part of the country.

                        The struggle was a predictable one, but with unflagging spirit and the assistance of charitable natives, they had, by the following autumn, successfully tilled the land and yielded a productive harvest.  It was in October of 1621 that they served a triumphant feast, commonly believed to be the first Thanksgiving, though because of the previous brutal winter, only 56 of the original 102 were there to celebrate. However, good will between the Pilgrims and the natives deteriorated after that, and the next feast wasn’t until June of 1676. 

                            Fast forward 101 years to the next official Thanksgiving holiday, though that was as much to celebrate America’s independence as anything else. George Washington declared a holiday during his presidency (1789-97), but since it was never official, subsequent presidents had the right to approve of not, Thomas Jefferson being one who opposed. Through the tireless efforts of a mid-19th century journalist Sarah Hale, President Abraham Lincoln in 1863 proclaimed that the last Thursday in November would be the official day of Thanksgiving celebration, though it’s not absolutely certain that people didn’t just go back to work on the Friday following. The day remained as such, except when Franklin Roosevelt moved it up a week in the 1930’s, rationalizing that if it was to lead in to the Christmas season, why not make that season longer? Public outcry forced him to relent after only two years.

                         What were they so pissed off about? We’re talking about one of the most hectic times of the year, where people jump through major hoops just to eat a ton of food with people you may or may not want to see. A time when the least enviable employer would have to be any airport, where you deal with thousands of people struggling to get on flights that have mostly been sold out for weeks. Most are tired and miserable, with babies screeching while being assured that all will be well once they get to grandma’s, though no one’s sure that’s really going to happen. If you’re driving out of town to your destination, well, guess what, so is everybody else!

                               And whoever is hosting has the unbearable chore of starting the cooking about 24 hours before, usually only getting a couple hours sleep in between. I only saw what my mom went through every year, and finally when she got past about age 60, me and my brother and our SO’s would get there early to alleviate some of the burden, as my dad was ever so clever at being essentially useless. Our family always got along fine, but we had incidents among guests, including one year when a husband and wife had a huge fight over her being unable to quit smoking, which resulted in her storming out before dinner was served, and the rest of the evening being rather sedate.  

                                 I last did Thanksgiving dinner in America in 2001, though in 2004, a US friend of mine did one in London. Otherwise, it’s one less day that I worry about over-indulgence and gaining weight. One less day of hassle for a holiday that lost most of its meaning to me long before I came over to UK. If I didn’t hear from relatives or US friends on that day, it’s possible the whole day could go by without my even noticing it. I’m now heading off to do my charity shop work, and I’m thankful for that.