Thanksgiving

About 10 years ago, when living on the Texas coast, we joined our neighbors for the traditional thanksgiving turkey.  It was a block party type of thing and our neighbor had cooked 2 huge turkeys.  The problem I have with thanksgiving is I hate turkey!  It seems almost un-American to admit I can’t stand the bird, but it is what it is.  In an effort not to offend our neighbor who had worked so very hard in preparing the birds I accepted a helping of turkey.  For me the good news was there were more of us for the thanksgiving feast than there were chairs at the table so I was able to move out to the deck with my meal.  The deck was adjacent the intercostal waterway.  I decided the best way to dispose of the huge helping of turkey was, rather than eat it, feed it to the fish.  When I had the opportunity I tossed the turkey over the rail into the water.  Apparently the seagulls noticed and considered it a thanksgiving offering.  First one swooped down to pluck a small piece of meat from the water.  Then another and another.  Then every seagull for 50 miles seemed to join in the celebration.  The seagulls were loving their thanksgiving meal so much they started squawking and jabbering and generally making a hell of a racket.  Then the dog next door started barking and making a ruckus.  Within minutes there were gulls sitting on the roof of the house, the deck railing, the deck furniture and flying about… these guys were everywhere.

The noise and commotion attracted the attention of our host and hostess and they came to the deck to see what was going on.  Seeing some turkey floating in the water it was quite obvious what had attracted the gulls.  The host asked who lost their turkey.  I felt obliged to step up to the yokelish behavior.  I told them I tripped on the deck and part of my meal, the turkey, fell into the water.

The host and hostess, being well mannered, inquired if I was hurt while looking me in the eye to see if I was on drugs or possibly drunk.  I assured them I was fine and they returned to the house.  The hostess came back on the deck moments later with a plate of turkey and proceeded to refill my plate with a new helping.  Geez, now what was I going to do?

I pondered my dilemma surrounded by seagulls that were just waiting for an opportunity for seconds.  Hundreds of beady black eyes were watching my every move.  I started second guessing myself wondering why I didn’t just fess up to not liking turkey.  It seemed too late to do that now since I was already on my second helping.

I decided to try the obvious and eat some of the turkey.  I took a bite.  Aw man, this was terrible.  It was dry and it tasted like… like turkey.  Ugh, what to do.  In desperation I decided to “doctor” the turkey and went into the house and found some gravy.  I ladled a healthy serving onto the turkey and returned to the deck.  I started to take another bite when I noticed these chunks of stuff in the gravy.  Aw man, giblets.  This was getting sickening.  I was doubting that even the seagulls would eat this.  NOW what was I going to do?

I decided the problem was not insurmountable and to resolve this issue without actually eating the turkey would require a little planning and stealth.  I needed to think.  I thought what I needed was a dog.  Considering the amount of turkey on my plate I might possibly need more than one… Chihuahua's need not apply.  I sauntered over to the fence and leaned against it with my plate in hand.  I sampled the potatoes and picked at the cranberry sauce.  I tapped the fence with the heal of my shoe to see if I could attract the dog that lived next door, hopefully he was still in the yard.  A few moments later my ears heard the dog sniffing at the fence.  I turned to face the fence and scooped the turkey from my plate and over the fence it went.  Immediately the seagulls took flight and the dog started barking again.  I’m thinking a barking dog isn’t eating turkey slathered in giblet gravy.  I’m also thinking I needed to do something about my hand with gravy dripping from it and I was making a small mess on the deck.  Where was my napkin?
 
I couldn’t see over the fence but I could clearly hear the dog barking as it obviously ran around the yard chasing away the invading seagulls.  The ruckus decibel level rose higher and higher and I just stood there with a gravy dripping from my hand wishing, praying the noise would stop. 

Enter the host and hostess.  They once again are trying to see what is making such a ruckus on the deck.  I stuck my gravy hand behind my back, my foot over the drips on the deck and casually leaned against the fence.  Seeing the commotion was next door their interest waned.  They inquired of me if I had any idea what was going on in their neighbors yard.  I told them I didn’t know but maybe the birds discovered the dog food and were helping themselves.  They agreed that could be the cause and excused themselves and returned to the house.  I don’t think they believed me.

The calamity didn’t continue for much longer and once the turkey was eaten (an assumption on my part) the birds as well as the dog were quiet but still watching for seconds… or thirds if you will.

I found a faucet and rinsed off my gravy hand and went into the house, disposed of my now mostly clean plate, and joined the others.  I took a seat on the couch and was watching football on television.  After a while I got up to find something to drink and to my horror I saw a splotch of gravy on the couch… right where I had been sitting.  Aw Geez, when I hid my hand behind my back over by the fence I must have got gravy all over my pants.  Now what was I going to do?

The stress was about to give me a heart attack.  Twice I was nearly caught dumping that awful turkey and now I had left a gravy stain on their couch and I knew I had to have gravy on my backside.  Oh if I had only declined the turkey and been honest from the get-go.

Well, no one was paying attention to me so I once again sauntered out to the deck but this time I just kept sauntering and walked around the house, down the street and into my own place.  I closed the door behind me and locked it.  I removed my pants and shirt.  I put on comfortable shorts and a t-shirt, then fixed me a peanut butter sandwich and read a book.

This year, I considered fixing the birds that frequent our yard some turkey and giblet gravy as a reminder to myself what happens when you try to fit in with the crowd… that is the turkey eating crowd.  Then it dawned on me that these were not seagulls in our yard and they would probably just enjoy some extra seed.  They wouldn’t even pretend to eat turkey.  They got seed and I’m having steak.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!!  Whoohoo.