I wrote this several years ago and figured I'd rehash it now for those who may not have seen it.
No matter what opinion you have about Thanksgiving, I think we can all agree that the concept of the holiday is based on varying degrees of legend and hokum.
When we were innocent and gullible kids in school (at least I was innocent and gullible), we were spoon-fed the sanitized Hallmark Card version:
The kind, generous, ultra-religious Pilgrims - - out of the goodness of their hearts - - spent days preparing a sumptuous Thanksgiving feast and invited the neighboring Indians over to share the unforgettable banquet. They dined on succulent turkey, sweet potatoes, French's original green bean casserole, dinner rolls with cranberry jam, and pumpkin pie topped with Cool Whip.
They exchanged gifts and recipes. The Indians taught them about the limitless wonders of maize. They prayed together and then joined hands and sang a rousing rendition of Kumbaya.
And they all lived happily ever after in absolute unity among purple mountain majesties and amber waves of grain.
In more recent years, the liberal historical revisionists have given us a grim and harrowing Thanksgiving tale of raw realism:
The Pilgrims - - an uncouth, bloodthirsty band of European white men and their skanky women - - arrived in America with ill-intent. They invaded the peaceful domain of Indian Territory - plundered the villages, trampled the teepees, chopped down the trees, polluted the water, claimed the Indian's land, imprisoned the Indian braves, raped the squaws, and gave everyone syphilis and inferiority complexes.
Within a few short generations, the pitifully few remaining Indian tribes were confined to squalid Arizona reservations - - living in unairconditioned Airstream trailers and using their meager government subsidies to buy cheap whiskey and Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Take your pick. Believe whatever version you like. But while you're chowing down that delectable Thanksgiving meal this week, just remember that without the white man's aggression and ingenuity - you'd be wearing buffalo robes and living in teepees. And eating maize, whatever the heck that is.
Damn it, Jon, you're almost brilliant when you're drunk. Hemingway would have been proud.
Hopefully I won't be scalped by irate (humorless) readers.
So, what do I have to be thankful for this year?
You know what I really want to say, don't you?
I'll stop gloating over the election results for a moment to mention that I lost 6 (yes SIX) blog "followers" because of my anti-Hillary posts.
One of these people was sweet Anne Marie - - who was already pissed at me because of my views on gun control.
But I'm thankful that I recently have some new followers, who obviously have good taste and aren't easily offended.
And I'm thankful for those of you who disagree with my opinions but still have the courage to hang around. You know who you are.
Should I be thankful that I'll never have to dust my favorite antique vase again?
My cat Scruffy broke it just about an hour ago. As you can see from the photo, it's beyond repair.
I yelled so loud that I scared the coyotes.
I'll probably do another Thanksgiving post this week. And I won't be offensive. Honest Injun.