Essays in Idleness

As my heading might indicate, “American Thanksgiving” can sound a little awkward in Canada’s other national language, which is why, in defiance of the Quebec language police, it is often altered from Jour de l’action de grâce américain to “Thanksgiving” — but pronounced in the basilectal joual. Too, in the Jour de l’action de grâce canadien, it is not about pilgrims. I have blathered about this before (here, and probably elsewhere).

While generally I advise the Yanquis against making any of their customs more Canajan, let me offer three suggestions in this case.

First, get rid of the shopping. We now have Black Friday sales up here, but they came from there, and so please, cut it out. As that gentle sage Steve Bannon says (here), we need less of that sort of capitalism, and more of the Christian sort. Moreover, le shopping belongs in the days after Advent and Christmas, and if everyone could remember this, there would be bigger savings.

Second, turkey is a dry bird, and while something may be done about this with bacon rashers, lard injections by syringe, and diligent double stuffing, still, a goose makes a better stove fire. True, it will provide what at first appears an unconscionable surplus of grease, but with foresight this can be collected and used to deep-fry exquisite frites, which is to say, the original “freedom fries.”

Third, if you have a secular humanist in your family, try to avoid goading him, which can only lead to scenes (like this). The Canadian way is to avoid or ignore any sort of visible conflict, hiding all disagreement behind a wan, puzzled smile. A good Canadian will sit quietly gobbling and guzzling, with an eye to the juicy bits left on the platter. He will create no outward disturbance at all, waiting patiently to settle his accumulated scores, without witnesses and entirely off-camera.