Well, I came up to the lookout to write a Thanksgiving message on my blog before dinner, but by the time I got up here, I'd forgotten what I was going to say. So, I wrote something else.
Kathe and I sat down to eat together, just the two of us. It's the first Thanksgiving in my memory where I sat at a table with just one other person (Tesfaye was in Portland with some Ethiopian relatives, Waldy was up in his room fast asleep). Way better than sitting alone, though.
I finally remembered the story I wanted to tell, and wrote on my palm, "TURKEY PIZZA". And here's why:
Many years ago, before I met her, Kathe made a pizza Thanksgiving feast, with three kinds of pizza including one with turkey meat.
Years later, one of the guests (who had been living with the family at the time) told Kathe that he had thought she had served pizza instead of a traidtional Thanksgiving meal because she didn't like him.
Kathe was astounded. Had he really thought she would base a holiday meal for her family on the hope that it would offend one of her housemates? That she would put her own family through all that for the chance to be rude to one guest? That she would go out of her way to cook ANYTHING for someone she actively disliked? Apparently he had. Wow.
This all comes to mind on account of Midge Decter's speech at Hillsdale College's "Marriage and the Family" seminar, as reprinted in the November issue of Hillsdale's magazine _Imprimis_, in which she asserted that all the (voluntary) sweat, (inevitable) tears and (thanks to certain elements of society) blood which gay men and lesbians had expended for the sake of the right to marry were all the result of a passionate desire to stick it to the straight people and make them squirm.
Wow.
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