Are you still allowed in the house? What about the kitchen?
It is that time when the person who does all of the cooking begins to wave a knife about and scream “Get the hell out of my kitchen.”
And why shouldn’t they, they have a job unlike anything since the D Day landing ahead of them. For one thing it has to be perfect. Sure you’re not going to lift a finger except to change channels with the remote and pat the dog, but come dinner time on Thursday everything on that table better look just like it came out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
You think you are tough, ever try pleasing a mother or a mother-in-law?
I’m not sure what it is that makes mother’s think their sons are prefect, but God lov’em they do, in spite of all evidence to the contrary. And beware the wife who thinks she can just serve up any ole thing to that perfect son. Why they were raised man and boy on mother’s love and home cooking and there is no reason why just because they married beneath their station and the wrong person to boot they should eat anything less than the perfect Thanksgiving dinner.
Even on fifties television they didn’t show the family around the table, and fifties television is broadcast straight from Never Never Land
A coupla years ago, Holly Hunter and Jodie Foster teamed up to give us a look at what the holiday feast is really like and it tanked. Yep, it went straight to video and all because it has a dark and less than joy filled view of what the traditional Thanksgiving is like.
But I digress, if mothers are bad mother’s-in-law are worse. They swoop down and start managing the preparations like Patton taking over Montgomery and leaving the head of the household to fume and keep silent, cause you know no one is going to jump to their aid.
So there you have it, three days of preparing to have everyone sitting in judgment like the Inquisition.
Oh yes, what if, of course this never happens, but say that it did, what happens if you run out of something and have to go to the store?
You remember those D Day landings? The kids on Omaha Beach know exactly what’s coming, knee deep in water with shells exploding and machine gunfire everywhere and men crying and calling for their mothers and that’s just the ones who forgot the list they were sent to the store with, I’m telling you Safeway is no fit place for man nor beast three days before Thanksgiving.
And assuming, you do know all about that word, right, assume? That’s right the old saw that gets repeated by teachers, mothers and bosses when they think they have the upper hand on you, assuming your survive the first five minutes and fight your way to the check out, there’s the line. Don’t even think about the fifteen items or less lane, its running slower than the others and that nice little old lady with the walker has three hundred dollars worth of groceries and six hundred dollars worth of coupons that won’t scan and she fighting tooth and nail for every one of them
Listen to me, don’t do it. Say after me, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more!” Man up! Get your wallet out, the one that creaks because it is used so seldom that the leather has dried out and open it. Pull out three twenties and take your food preparation manager out of the house.
Our pal, Master Chef Jardin Kazaar is doing all of the work for you at the Black Market Gourmet. You can have Thanksgiving, enjoy the meal, eat till your eyes bulge and leave. No clean up, (That means no on yelling at you to get off the couch turn off the game and come load the dishwasher), when you’re done, you’re done.
You can even pick up a copy of Jardin’s CD, Ephemera and knock off Christmas shopping while you fill your tank.
Still undecided? Portside in Charleston is also doing a feed. The location is right on the water, with the birds swooping and the fishing boats unloading their catch, you get extra points for making the gesture with good atmosphere. And given the way things have gone this year you could use the extra points.
And what pray tell does any of this have to do with art? Food is art, if you don’t believe that you haven’t had a close encounter with a gourmet meal.
Besides, mood is what makes an artist want to hit the studio and burn the midnight oil cranking out another masterpiece while everyone else is watching the game.
So this year be thankful for all of your blessings and pass them along to the people who make your life live-able so that you can ignore them and work, get out of the house and let that poor, over worked, under appreciated food prep manager take the day off.
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