The Holiday That Dare Not Speak Its Name

No, I'm not talking about Christmas. I don't have a lot of patience for those noisy Bible-thumpers who complain about being wished "Happy Holidays!" Even though I consider Christmas mainly a pagan/secular celebration at this point, I know that a lot of people don't and they resent the alleged presumption of Christianity that lies behind the greeting "Merry Christmas!" As someone who's been presumed straight more often than not, I'm sympathetic, so I follow my cosmopolitan instincts and wish a more explicit greeting only to those for whom I know for certain it's appropriate.

But over the past few days, more people have wished me "Happy Holiday!" than "Happy Thanksgiving!" What gives? I mean, they can't all be having senior moments: Happy...uh...Guy Fawkes Day? Diwali? Buddha's Birthday? Oh, screw it, Happy Holiday! They all know what today is: One of the few truly national holidays this country has. And there's not even a national agenda to offend the raving Chomskyites. As monshu likes to say, "It's about food and friends and nothing else." (Yeah, the poor dead Indians. Whatever--go picket Columbus Day and leave my turkey fest the hell alone.)

So the potatoes seemed to have turned out okay, but I panicked when I saw the updated eVite and bought two more pounds to cook up this morning. That also gave me a second chance on the cabbage, which I royally bolloxed last night. It wasn't just that I overcooked it; the shit was bland. Rightly or wrongly, I'm blaming my deviation from the ancient Teutonic tradition of starting with bacon. So screw you, vegans; this time, I'm using lard.