The best Thanksgiving ever

Ed Villarreal
How about no

Holidays have never been a big deal in my family. Even when I was a child, my mom would run to the grocery store on Thanksgiving Day and pick up our feast already prepared. This was probably a good plan during her menopausal years due to the risk of having hot flashes in an already steamy kitchen. The last thing I wanted to see was my mom emerging from a cloud of steam covered in sweat and holding a knife as her hormones dragged her from her happy place to the lowest level of hell and back again in a matter of three seconds.

Most of the dinners ended with my mom wishing a happy holiday. I'd usually respond with a heartfelt "Right on" and escape to my room for some Super Mario Brothers.

One year - before I came out of the closet - my sister convinced my mom to have a traditional Turkey Day by actually cooking the meal together. At some point during the meal preparation, mom and my sister started bickering at each other about something insignificant like which is the best brand of mayonnaise or the flavor of greeting card envelopes. As they rattled off, I took advantage of the situation by whispering, "I'm gay," in front of them. They were too caught up in their spat to notice. I walked out of the kitchen with a grin on my face and a bizarre sense of satisfaction.

Another year, my friend Glitter Boy and I went to the local gay establishment for Thanksgiving dinner, or Thanksgiving and Receiving as we liked to call it. We were ravenous as we devoured our meals. I don't know if it was the gay turkey or our extreme hunger, but that was the best Thanksgiving dinner I have ever had. I finished it off with the best dessert ever, a beer and a cigarette.

Afterwards, Glitter Boy gave me a gift. He was finishing up massage therapy school and had to do so many hours for free. I found myself lying on his massage table fully content after my dinner and dessert while my friend gave me an amazing massage. I also found myself running to the bathroom in order to un-eat. Glitter Boy stood next to me as I vomited and said, "Yeah, I guess you shouldn't get a massage after you just pigged out and had a beer. You might throw up or something."

So this year, when my mom called and said, "I don't know. I guess I'm making a ham or something," I opted to stay as far away from Thanksgiving as possible, also known as locked up in my hole-in-the-wall house in Carbondale. I ate generic shells and cheese and played on the PS2 all night. There was no family, no menopause and no puking. This was the best Thanksgiving ever.

Wait! There's more.

Frequent readers of my column know that I have major dating issues. Well, I finally got the gumption to ask someone out. He was an extraordinary gentleman and an overall great guy. Sure, after one date, I have no idea where things are going. But one thing I do know is I have a newfound faith in men and my skills with them, at least for a bit. So thanks, man.

Sure, this holiday weekend wasn't spent the way the Pilgrims intended. I wasn't carving up the turkey or sneezing on Indians. They probably never thought some half-Mexican would spend their blessed time playing video games and gay dating.

But you know what? Screw it.

My family and I tried to force ourselves into the traditional holiday standards and practices. It's just not worth it. If you need to spend some time away from the folks, by all means, take some time away from the folks. Besides, Christmas is the time when all the stress really comes to a boil.

And let me tell you, the only thing scarier than seeing mom with a knife during menopause is seeing mom with a knife after menopause. Now she doesn't have an excuse; she's just crazy.

How about no appears every Tuesday. Ed is a junior in speech pathology. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the Daily Egyptian.

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