3 Things I Love about Friendsgiving
Audio version now available.
You probably assume that one of my top three loves for a holiday meal shared with friends rather than family is the likelihood of avoiding tense conversations about politics–the conflicts prevalent around a traditional multi-generational family Thanksgiving table. The last Saturday Night Live episode in November almost always features at least one skit that starts with a smiling family watching the patriarch carve the turkey, and devolves into a blur of isms and phobias with a predictable buildup and and eventual crescendo of mashed potato spittle being scream-launched while someone chugs directly from the wine bottle out of desperation.
Avoiding such scenes is not one of the three reasons I love Friendsgivings.
While I am a huge fan of SNL, and love a good family dysfunction parody, my particular family’s dysfunction rarely includes political conflict at Thanksgiving. That’s not to say that we don’t have that uncle who thinks home-installed solar panels are a direct assault on a West Virginia coal miner, or a niece who thinks communism has not worked because it hasn’t been given a fair shake. Maybe my family’s dysfunction is our lack of commitment to advocacy demonstrated by our deference for holiday conflict avoidance. We seem to honor an unspoken rule about keeping our red hats and melting-ice-cap literature away from the table.
So if political arguments are not something I am trying to avoid at Thanksgiving, why do I love a pre-turkey day feast with friends?
Love #1: Unlimited Deviled Eggs
As a former alcoholic, I have the almost universally associated scarcity issue. Do we have enough wine? How many beers are in the refrigerator? Caroline Knapp explained the insecurity with eloquence and completeness in my favorite quit lit of all time, Drinking: A Love Story. Now that I don’t drink, I don’t care about the volume of alcohol at a social gathering. At Friendsgiving, I seem to have transferred that obsession. I love deviled eggs, and at the one we’ve attended for a few years now, Kiki brings a big batch of her most delicious recipe. The reason deviled eggs at Friendsgiving are such a blessing is that no one is paying enough attention to notice that I palm a deviled egg every time I walk through the kitchen. With my family, my love for deviled eggs is well known, and my kids are plenty comfortable with confronting an overindulger. My four kids and I have been equitably sharing the turkey neck their whole lives. They know what fairness looks like. If too many deviled eggs go missing, there will be an investigation. At Friendsgiving, an empty deviled egg plate is met with relief and pride as Kiki smiles wide knowing her contribution was a hit. The contents of my belly are never called into question.
Love #2: My Kids are Old
The particular Friendsgiving we attend is hosted by a couple with elementary-school-and-younger aged children. We adults tend to make friends with the other parents at our kids’ schools, which means a ton of toddlers and preteens running around. I remember those days when socializing at the home of a neighbor felt like a constant vigil to keep one of my young children from toppling head-over-fanny down unfamiliar, unfinished basement stairs, or to keep them from sticking a finger in the eye-level pucker hole of an overwhelmed and overstimulated canine. I watch the parents at our Friendsgiving with a sliver of empathy and a ton of relief and condescension. I mostly have no idea where my kids are. They are old enough to sneak their own deviled eggs, and if they cause a dog to spin and nip, they deserve it.
Love #3: Hot Apple Cider
My wife, Sheri, brings hot apple cider to share at Friendsgiving. In the past, the most important consideration for me when pouring a mug of hot apple cider was whether to spike it with bourbon or rum. Thankfully, I am now a cider purist–100% apple. Like sucking on a candy cane at a Christmas party, I love mingling at Friendsgiving while sipping on a harvest-themed beverage that seems to encompass all the sentiments of the season of thankfulness.
I also enjoy watching wine drinkers abandon their stemware in favor of a coffee cup of liquid Honeycrisp. It is not very often that the teetotalers are considered the most festive imbibers and trend setters at the party. I can also make a mental note of the people who follow my lead and appear not to be budding little alcoholics (my alcy-dar remains pretty finely tuned).
I love Thanksgiving with my family, too. One does not replace the other for me. In fact, this holiday is my favorite on the calendar. My family points to my squeaky cheapness, and assumes my love for Thanksgiving is because I don’t have to shop for gifts, but that’s not it, really. My love of Thanksgiving is because it offers perspective. It is quite easy to get caught up in our needs, our losses, and our goals unmet. On the last Thursday in November, the focus is on never losing sight of the incredible blessings we enjoy, and holding the people we share the abundance with near.
Just like the big beverage companies say when it comes to their toxin-in-a-bottle, if you are ever offered my wife’s hot apple cider, “please drink responsibly.” No need to worry about intoxication, but if you aren’t paying attention, you could get a clove stem stuck in your throat. No such danger with Kiki’s deviled eggs. The more I eat, the bigger the batch she will bring next year.
If you are ready to be a trend setter in sobriety, and are looking for a tribe with whom you can focus on abundance instead of missing out on a toxin, please consider joining us in SHOUT Sobriety.