The Death of Thanksgiving Day November 14, 2007
Posted by millyonair in Rants, Social Commentary.Tags: America, consumerism, Family, Food, Holidays, Thanksgiving
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So, apparently I’ve been living in a box the past few years (actually, it was Arkansas), and completely missed the news that Thanksgiving was out-of-fashion and was being declared obsolete. In its place a new holiday was to be instituted, one that more accurately reflects the values so cherished by our society. Had I heard the announcement, I certainly would have protested, picketed, boycotted, and generally raised a stink about it. But The Powers That Be (those sneaky bastards) did it behind my back, while I was meandering obliviously in the Ouachita Forest, mesmerized by the arrival of autumn and the salutatory colors donned by the trees. 
It may be old news to some of you, but it has only recently come to my attention that the feast of Thanksgiving is now widely celebrated as a feast to consecrate consumerism, a holiday dedicated to the heralding of the pre-Christmas shopping frenzy. Of course, I’ve been aware for some time that the day after Thanksgiving is when Americans traditionally descend, en masse, upon the shopping malls. But it seems that our salivating, chop-licking ravenousness to buy stuff can no longer be tamed to endure the long, sleepless hours that separate Thanksgiving from the dawn of what is known in the retail business as “Black Friday.” To accommodate us, the retail industry, in its benevolence, has decided to open stores on Thanksgiving evening.
My brother, who manages a store at the San Marcos outlet mall compound, will be working on Thanksgiving evening. I think this is beyond sad. My brother is a person who adores tradition, right down to the last few crumbs of pumpkin pie. And yet his guts will still be processing his turkey dinner when he clocks in for work, his poor brain will be battling the drowsy effects of l-tryptophan in the wee hours of the morning- all to send the sacrilegious masses merrily into the star-strewn night, shopping bags a-bulging.
I can hear their silver-buckled shoes clattering against the coffin planks as our pilgrim forefathers spin in their graves.
“So this is what we came here to establish?” they might ask if their tongues were not long ago turned to fertilizer. “What about family? What about thanking the Lord, or Grandma, or whoever, for the bounty of the feast? What about celebrating autumn?” I can imagine their skulls bowed over their rib cages, swiveling from side-to-side on their neck bones in sorrowful astonishment. Whether or not you still buy into that yellow-and-orange tinted fairy tale propagated as history in elementary schools (you know, the one about Indians and Englishmen cozied around a picnic table heaped with corn) is beside the
point. The idea behind Thanksgiving is a good one. What better reason to have a feast than to celebrate and be thankful for food? Thanksgiving should be a time to get together with your friends and family, to gather around a table and enjoy one another’s company, a few bottles of wine, and a fine meal. Feasts and holidays are a hallmark of any culture; the things a people celebrate define who they are as a group. I think its embarrassing both globally and cosmically that, as a society, we have dispensed with the warm, pumpkin-scented inspiration for Thanksgiving Day, and have skipped right to the ka-ching part of the holiday season. (Are those sleigh bells or cash registers I hear? They sound remarkably similar these days!)
Of course, the Thanksgiving shoppers, those poor, deranged sheep, will probably still have the requisite turkey and dressing, the yams and pie on their tables that day. But, without the motive, the celebration is hollow- it becomes nothing more than an empty ritual, an occasion for gluttony, followed by more gluttony of a different flavor at the mall. Shame on the stores for being open, and shame on us for our gullible, unwavering patronage!
It is sad that Thanksgiving is passed by, but I do have to say that retailers are not looking for warm and fuzzy celebrations. They are looking for the bottom line. If it didn’t work, believe me they would change. It works because people “buy” into all of it. The debt to your death mentality of Chrismas. Retailers are setting the stage because we allow it. Just look at most of our holidays food, shopping, traveling, and a day off of work that can sum it up for a lot (including myself at times). If we change and don’t allow for it, I think the retailers woudld follow. They don’t want to pay people if no one shows up.
Thanks for letting me rant as well
Debbie aka The Real World Martha
Debbie,
It is rather a chicken-or-the-egg scenario. I had this very discussion with my father a few weeks ago, when I first learned that my brother had been sentenced to cash-registry on Thanksgiving evening. What you say is true: if we refused to shop, the stores wouldn’t open. But, since we tend to be rather sheep-like in our trend-following patterns, I have to wonder if we haven’t been convinced by the retail industry that we DO indeed want to shop our butts off. By opening their doors on Thanksgiving day, the stores are tacitly telling us what we want, by making it seem like they’re offering us a convenience. In effect, they are saying, “We know you really want to get in here and buy stuff, we know you just can’t wait to get started! We know your husband’s Christmas bonus is burning a hole in your pocket before it even hits the bank! So, come on in, y’all!” And we confirm their suspicions by nodding our collective heads, and tromping, zombie-like, towards the illuminated windows of the shopping mall.
I can’t imagine that if people really gave it some thought, they would conclude that shopping on Thanksgiving Day is the stuff of which warm memories are made.
Thanks for commenting!
I couldn’t hate the materialism of Christmas more! This is why I usually try to flee Christendom this time of year.
For those of you for whom there is no escape, I recommend a heretical form of civil disobedience: don’t shop.
I few years back I wrote a short essay against the “trained-seal munificence of ritual gift-giving”, highlighting an intyeresting argument by economist Steven Landsburg: that the Christmas miser conserves resources, benefiting all. Check it out.
MBJ
Mark,
Don’t shop? What heresy you speak! Don’t you understand that if we all cease to spend money (that we more than likely don’t actually have), then we shall be pulling the tent-poles from beneath that circus we call the Economy, and it will come crashing down, trapeze artists and all, onto our Santa hats? By shopping, we promote our nation’s financial health. Why, it’s downright virtuous when you look at it that way.
I read both of your essays, and as usual, you make your points well. I’m certainly an advocate for the idea of having less stuff (or at least being willing to get rid of all of it without a bunch of unwarranted melodrama). However, I think the idea of giving gifts to people you cherish is a kind of warm, fuzzy thing that I’m not wholly ready to dispense with. That being said, I won’t be purchasing gifts for anyone at the mall. I plan to make people presents instead. For many people, the idea of a homemade gift is redolent of grandma’s knitted sweaters or Aunt Bev’s appliquéd sweatshirts. But I plan for most of my Christmas gifts to be either original artwork (by yours truly) or homemade bread.
Surely even you wouldn’t object to being treated with a lovely loaf of fresh bread for Christmas?
If we lived more abstemiously the rest of the year, and refrained from buying unnecessary stuff whenever we fancied (iphones, video games, dvds, new clothes, car stereos), then the practice of giving and receiving gifts might be less vulgar. I mean, if you have less stuff to begin with, then getting a gift seems more special.
But, as I have told you before, your gift of service idea is absolutely beautiful. And if someone performed a gift of service as a way to honor me on Christmas Day, well, it would in all probability be the most special gift I had ever “received.”
Thanks for commenting- I always enjoy your remarks.
Milly
Milly:
Just like you to hit my weakness: fresh baked bread. You don’t fight fair!
There are two interesting thing about your example, if we assume that the gifted loaves were baked by you, and one not-so-interesting feature. Let’s dispose of the latter idea first.
The thoughtfulness of the gift is not an issue for purposes of this discussion. Many store-bought gifts reflect care in their selection, respond to genuine needs of the recipient, and are much-appreciated. If we argue only against thoughtless gift-giving, we make the argument too easy for ourselves.
But here’s what’s great about your bread example: it embodies the idea of service. Your gift involves not the mere expenditure of your money, but your physical commitment and talent. John Locke wrote, wrongly, that ownership occurs when one “mixes their labor” with physical objects. Still, in this context, one can rightly say that your gift of bread is giving away something of yourself — something that you own in a very real sense, rather than in the transitional, custodial way we take temporary possession of store-bought gifts earmarked for others.. This not only enriches the gift for the recipient, it renders your act of baking a meditation on the process of giving. It is a perfect illustration of how, in a very practical sense, generosity is something we gift to ourselves.
The other fascinating thing about your example is that it points to the awkwardness of being the recipient of gifts that are given with love in a ritual that one detests. It is always easier to give than to receive; but it is doubly tough in this situation. But, as Emily Post taught: there is no real divergence between ethics and manners. And she was right.
So, when do I get my bread?
Cheers,
MBJ
Mark,
I’d be happy to send you a loaf of bread- I’d even send you handmade holiday greeting card (I’m in the process of making all my Christmas cards). My concern: by the time the package arrived in India, the card would be mold-free, but the bread might not be. No preservatives, you see.
No divergence between ethics and manners…hmm. Very interesting.