Can we talk about something important?

Can we talk about something that actually matters?

Something that’s going to affect every single person reading this?

 

We can?

 

Good.

 

Ok, well – why does everyone treat Thanksgiving like it’s the red-haired middle child of the holiday season?

 

You go straight from Halloween to Christmas.

You give Christmas two full months when every other holiday is lucky to get a long weekend.

 

Some of you weirdos even have your Christmas trees up before you’ve finished the last of your Halloween candy, which, let’s be honest, is usually eaten in shame, alone, and sometime around 11 PM on November 2nd.

 

And in your eagerness to be festive, to people-please, to show your neighbors you “care about the season,” you skip over the most honest holiday we have: Thanksgiving.

 

What the fuck, guys.

 

What about Thanksgiving?

 

Let me tell you something.

Thanksgiving is the American holiday.

 

Not “an” American holiday—THE one.

 

Forget the Fourth of July.

 

If the Fourth is what we wear on a first date, Thanksgiving is who we are when we get home, fart, and unbutton our pants.

 

If aliens landed tomorrow and said, “Describe Americans,” you wouldn’t show them fireworks. You’d show them Thanksgiving.

 

“Well… we’re kind of large.”

 

“We watch football.”

 

“We eat like we’re preparing for a famine no one else has heard about.”

 

“We argue pointless things with family we only see when poultry is involved.”

 

“And yes, we can express gratitude and hurl an insult in the same breath.”

 

That’s Thanksgiving.

 

That’s you. 

And that’s America in holiday form—confused, bloated, loud, and somehow still endearing.

 

And yet it gets no respect. Not a fuckin’ ounce. 

 

Name one other holiday where the goal—the literal mission statement—is to eat until you hate yourself.

 

Name another holiday where the expectation is you sit on the couch for six hours and stare at a television like it might reveal the secrets of the universe.

 

Name a holiday where you talk about the problems of the country and no one agrees on the solution—but everyone agrees the turkey is dry.

 

Name one where you can be deeply grateful for the people you love… and then threaten those same people with bodily harm in a Walmart parking lot because they don’t want to wait in line with you, you savage fuck.

 

Thanksgiving is the most honest portrait of America ever created.

 

It’s football.

It’s overeating.

It’s lying to your family about how your life is going (“Yeah, things are great, actually!”) while praying no one brings up your job, your dating life, or that business idea you announced in 2019 that you definitely did not start.

 

It’s saying how thankful you are for what you have—and then having capitalism shove a Black Friday sale into the same damn day.

 

That’s the stuffing behind Thanksgiving.

 

Hell, if you’re bloated, argumentative, and glued to the screen—this should be your Super Bowl.

Your national championship.

The moment to proudly unbuckle your belt and sigh like a (hu)man who has accepted his destiny.

 

So why do we act like Thanksgiving is something to hide?

 

Where are your decorations?

 

Why isn’t your front yard covered in giant inflatable turkeys, pilgrim hats, and gourds that look like Dr. Seuss on a bender?

 

Why isn’t your porch exploding in red, orange, and yellow like a flaming-hot fall massacre?

 

This is a government-approved holiday, people.

 

Government approved. 

 

You get the fucking day off. But instead of honoring the most brutally honest holiday America has, you decorate for Christmas.

 

Christmas gets its own aisle in every store, its own soundtrack, its own coffees, its own mall economy.

Thanksgiving gets a sad tub of turkeys and a display of canned yams no one buys intentionally.

That’s it. That’s the whole marketing budget.

We should all be ashamed of ourselves.

Just because Thanksgiving is honest doesn’t mean you should reject it.

If anything, that’s the reason to embrace it.

Come on, guys. Give the turkey its due.

Give the mashed potatoes their moment.

Give America’s truest holiday the respect it deserves.

Because if you’re fat, lazy, love arguing, and love watching TV…

Then own it, you glorious, gluttonous bastards.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Now pass the gravy, you pansies.

 

 

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