(After I read this ridiculous piece, I thought of how it should be properly heard. If you can remember Barney Fife from the old Andy Griffith show, it may be more appreciated. Imagine him delivering this proposal to a group of adults.)
There lies a unique unfairness and inequity amongst most holiday traditions whether you celebrate them or not. Holiday mascots are accepted with grace, except at the Thanksgiving table, where it should be the most applicable. I’d like to change that. Let me begin with the most ridiculous before making my proposal.
St. Patrick’s Day and the Leprechaun, or Lepre “con” Artist: The day itself, other than getting pinched by greasy fingered little boys and girls if you’re not wearing your best emerald green on that day, can be a hoot. With terrifically high probability, you may also end up in the hoosegow (local jail)……not such a hoot. This is especially true when, being released, the officers only hand you back your wallet filled with mandatory counseling sessions instead of the pot of gold promised at the end of that phony rainbow by an even phonier dwarf.
Easter and the Easter Bunny: At least this has some religious redemption, but personally, as a youngster, I have sprained more ankles trying to find hard boiled eggs, only for those eggs to be consumed angrily by uncles and aunts concluding their pious vows of Lent, while fasting and then feasting off of deviled eggs and alcohol.
The Tooth Fairy on any day of the year: Get the hell out of here! I wish my parents would have just told me this one didn’t exist. Any form of ghost, even if they wish to give me a quarter, is not welcomed into my bedroom.
Santa Claus, A.K.A. Old St. Nick and Christmas: This is a tough one for those of us old enough to recognize him before Jesus. But, just ask anyone younger than the age of eighteen, and I’ll bet you they acknowledge the big guy with the presents before the baby sacrificing his life for us. Dispatch the three kings delivering a bunch of presents to those who have been with or without sin for a year, and you are left with one fat bearded guy cramming himself down your chimney annually, and quite generously, for the rest of your life. Look what the milk and cookies dragged in.
This brings us to Thanksgiving and my holiday proposal. For centuries, not ONE of the former fictional holiday mascots I’ve written about brings us a pot of gold, quarters, eggs or gifts on Thanksgiving. As adults, we don’t really give a damn. Thanksgiving is the only natural holiday where we don’t forget the food, but we do forget the children. We thirst upon mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, stuffing and turkey as though we are too old for candy on Halloween. Our children only witness our gluttony with pain and anguish waiting for the pies and “a la” anything rich with sugar to be unveiled from the oven. Do they dream of anything the night before Thanksgiving? No. If only they had something to believe in which has been shrouded in mystery. Therefore, I propose, only as a write-in, “Sasquatch” or “Bigfoot”, to be the official, 2015 and beyond, Thanksgiving Day Mascot. My agnostic views regarding this subject only provide further substance to the, otherwise, outlandish topic.
What will Bigfoot bring to the Thanksgiving table? Probably nothing, other than the cornucopia presented by them to the natives and pilgrims centuries ago. However, your children will either be terrified and/or excited straight down to the britches at the possibility of this creature strolling through their back yard the night before the feast. In order for the children to get excited, they need more than turkeys, pilgrims and drunken uncles to dream about the night before Thanksgiving. They require something as universally recognized (or sometimes unrecognizable) as the elusive eight to ten foot tall hairy Sasquatch to dance and stomp on their roof on Thanksgiving Eve. As peaceful as that may not seem, rest assure, your children will be wide awake the following day afraid to speak to their elders regarding such a preposterous idea. This is precisely what the elders wish. On Thanksgiving, the children should be afraid and not heard.
What shall the children place in the yard for Sasquatch as a form of acceptance? Since this a professional study, according to scientific analysis, they eat mostly roses, blueberries and blackberries when in season. Seeing as November is not the season for such ruffage, Sasquatches will settle for mashed potatoes and gravy. They are particularly finicky about their gravy. Lumps will only agitate them, and since they are also particularly interested in throwing large rocks when agitated, I would advise you keep the gravy smooth.
How does one know a Sasquatch is present during the holiday gathering if one of our bipedal brothers from other hairy mothers doesn’t arrive? Physical evidence does not only rely on a dead specimen. This evidence may be gathered by hair samples, scat, (bigfoot droppings) or even voice recognition, save for the text version. The colorful and hair raising “whoop whoop whoop” disguised gracefully by Bigfoot’s second cousins, “the Swinging Singing Siamea,” can only be heard in its most natural of habitat, “AnyZooUsa”. However, they can’t be heard on the last Thursday of each November. According to legend, those “whoops” on Thanksgiving are a guttural cry which can only stem from the belly of a Bigfoot. If one is fortunate, the “whoops” can be heard when the human family is eating dinner, but, much like leftovers, they are only left for the believers. Some naysayers believe the “whoops” are contrived from human relatives singing their praise for the smooth gravy and moist turkey. Yet, when the “burps” arrive and the “whoops” subside, there is only momentary silence.
That’s when the legendary “whoops” remain. Just like an angel receiving her wings when a bell rings on Christmas, when a person gives sincere thanks for the beautiful meal provided on Thanksgiving, arriving in the form of a burp, the Sasquatch and his family grows another beard; thus, keeping itself hidden within the trees and brush where it perhaps belongs.