DON’T LOOK NOW, but the Grinch has expanded WAY beyond Christmas.
Remember that pumpkin shortage last Halloween? Hmmm? I believe the official word was a crop failure or some such flimsy excuse. But we all know the REAL reason. Someone — and I have the best sources in Whoville for this — decided that swiping a few jack o’lanterns would keep the trick-or-treaters from beating down his door.
Don’t scoff. You know I’m making sense.
Now we’ve moved on to Phase II: The Great Turkey Heist. It seems that this Thanksgiving, supplies of turkey are a bit tight. Prices are going up and a number of school districts are going without, apparently because of a bad year that produced scrawnier-than-usual birds.
Oh, you’re a sly one, Mr. Grinch. But not quite sly enough. You won’t be swiping the Rochat family’s Thanksgiving turkey this year.
After all, you can’t steal what was never there to begin with.
It’s true. In eight Thanksgivings as a married couple, Heather and I have only had turkey at the table once. And that was a special occasion, a feast at a friend’s house who invited us to spend Thanksgiving with their family. But every other year, we’ve been gobbler-free.
It’s not out of any deep-seated loathing on my part. I happen to like turkey, though it’s a bit dry for my tastes. But circumstances have generally dictated an alternate menu.
Circumstance No. 1: Heather is a vegetarian. That meant that our first couple of Thanksgivings had vegetarian loaf as the centerpiece of an otherwise normal dinner. It’s good stuff, actually, though I know I won’t be able to sell that to everyone.
Circumstance No. 2: The vagaries of fate. After moving to Emporia, we had a standing offer to spend Thanksgiving with some old family friends in Topeka. Every single time, we had to call it off at the last minute — either Heather was ill, or our friends were ill, or something else happened to intervene.
And finally, there’s Circumstance No. 3: How easily necessity becomes tradition. When you call off a Thanksgiving visit at the last minute, it doesn’t leave you much time to cook. And when Heather is sick, that leaves me in the kitchen — and I can just about cook my way out of a paper bag, if there’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in it. Most restaurants, of course, are closed for the holiday ... but we did find one exception.
And that’s how we ended up having a traditional Thanksgiving Domino’s pizza, just the way our pilgrim forefathers made it.
OK, it’s silly. But maybe it’s appropriate. The first Thanksgiving wasn’t about hunting down the nearest turkey and dragging it to the table. (By most accounts, turkey wasn’t even part of the first feast.) It was about gratitude for survival and for the good things of the earth and for neighbors who were willing to give of their abundance. That hasn’t changed.
Apparently the Grinch needs to learn his lesson again. Just as Christmas isn’t something that comes from a store, Thanksgiving isn’t something that depends on a bird with stuffing. The lessons of faith and gratitude can be shared just as easily around a hand-tossed double cheese special as they can around drumsticks and cranberry sauce.
There’s even a side benefit. Without all the tryptophan in the bird, I don’t fall asleep quite so quickly. I actually get to enjoy a little more of Thanksgiving, maybe by watching a movie or a mediocre football game.
Face it, Mr. Grinch. This plot was strictly for the birds.
Scott Rochat’s e-mail address is rochat@emporiagazette.com.