though you may not drive ...

...a great big Cadillac
Gangsta whitewalls
TV antenna in the back
You may not have a car at all
But remember brothas and sistas
You can still stand tall

Just be thankful for what you've got ...

Yeh, it's Thanksgiving and I'm feeling sappy in spite of myself. It must be because I had yesterday off and watched Oprah. Oy vey. Holidays are always a catch 22 for me. Though I'm close with my mother, most of my relatives are exhausting and I don't like very many of them. You know what they say, "you can't choose ..."

But sometimes I get sucked into the sentimentality of it all and long for that closeness that I see in other families (most tv families really): the big elaborately dressed dinner table, everyone saying what they're thankful for, yatta yatta yatta. I am quite thankful that I've never spent a holiday alone (not that there's anything wrong with that), most often I've spent them with people I really like (nonrelatives), and I've never gone without food. I could go on and on.

And then I get angry about Thanksgiving, that quintessential American holiday that dresses up our history of conquest like an unsuspecting turkey and then flouts our obsession with overconsumption in the most embodied of ways--stuffing ourselves with comfort food.

Ever caught in this quandary between pathos and politics ... I could either leave the country for American holidays (which can be quite refreshing), be a grinch, or suck in up (and in) and feast. For today anyway, bon appetit.