My Actual Thanksgiving

Second verse, same as the first (what actually happened this Thanksgiving, in the same format as the previous entry):

- I'm sure many families hosted relatives they hadn't seen in a year or more. Most likely the relative they greeted was different from the one they knew from last time. New experiences, health problems, love problems, higher taxes, forced to drive less, whatever it might be. But also, it's likely that outside of inviting those relatives to come for Thanksgiving, they hadn't talked that much to that particular relative until that point. They had their own matters to attend to, and those relatives are important, but more in the background, as someone or some people they have in their history that drives them, that defines them. It may not be apparent, but there may be a part of them that's there, in the wink of an eye, in the mindset of a spouse, in a method of dance.

Greenberg Turkeys is the same way to me. I don't think about them during the year, and only after we've ordered our turkey from them, which I think was in late October, and it was delivered on November 20th. When I thought about their turkey again, I couldn't remember how last year's turkey was. Mom said it was better last year. And therein lies the news from a once-a-year guest: Greenberg Turkeys is no doubt having financial problems because of the economy. They sure smoked the turkey, as evidenced when we opened the box to the white foil-lined bag the turkey was in and the scent was heavy, but maybe there was something in their method they had to leave out. The spices were carelessly placed, with certain sections of the turkey bearing a mound of them, rather than the spices being spread throughout the turkey. The white meat didn't require any condiments, which is sometimes the case with white meat, but the dark meat was a rather unpleasant experience. It looked gray. I imagine that's something to expect from a smoked turkey, but the gray of Charles Dickens' London? The gray of the gruel in the workhouse in Oliver Twist? It didn't taste any better either. It wasn't a problem in cooking, as the turkey was already cooked. We only had to heat it. Mom said we won't order a turkey from them next year. Every year we ordered from them, there was one year where it was great, one year middling, one year great, and so on. Not a crapshoot to try again. If we make it to Las Vegas (we will, but I guarantee it will be more stressful than I had hoped), we won't need to order turkeys. There's the buffets on the holiday, too, besides the turkeys to be found at Smith's and other stores.

- The sides were perfect, however. I don't partake much in the green beans with french-fried onions on top, but I made my plate heavy with the Stove Top stuffing and the candied yams. This year, Dad put Craisins in the stuffing and that worked well. I didn't have any of that big chocolate chip cookie, though. Too full.

- On Thanksgiving, my parents did not fire one sharp word at each other. My Dad made everything there was to eat on Thanksgiving, so I suspect that's one reason, but also the other in that he had made a genuine effort to pay attention to her. That didn't last long. On Friday, they, and Meridith, went to the Wal-Mart Supercenter and a few other places. Dad wandered away with his cellphone, Mom got ticked and just stood there until he came back, and she sarcastically asked him, "Having fun?" It came to a vicious head yesterday morning. Combine the screeching of chalk on a chalkboard with a cruise ship's horn, and the screeching of truck brakes, and you have what I heard. I fell asleep a little before 7 a.m., and I didn't even look at what time it was when I was yanked out of my sleep by the latest fight. This time, Dad had bounced a check. But he defended himself to Mom, saying that the payroll from the William S. Hart Union School District had not reached his bank account yet, and before the check would have bounced, the money came in. He called someone he knew at our local bank, who said he'd take care of it so it doesn't reflect on his bank statements, even though the next bank statement he gets will list that check as an "overdraft," though that guy at the bank assures him that there won't actually be an overdraft. That's as far as I got. Mom has every right to question him because their wedding money was used to pay off bills he racked up and he's never managed money well. For necessary bills now, of course, and he's big on coupons at the supermarket, but Mom will forever remain suspicious. But jesus, what a hard fight. She went at him about his delay in all of us moving to Las Vegas, questioning him about whether he had sent his application to the Department of Defense to teach in their online school (he did), as well as the Clark County application. I don't say anything more during these fights. There's nothing I could say that would offer insight on something they hadn't considered. I've seen every fight for 23 years of their 26 years of marriage. There's nothing I could say that would reverse what has happened all this time, nothing that would cause him to suddenly be attentive. It's obvious he does not want to change, as much as he tries to pin some of the blame on her. My sister chimed in while she was sitting on the couch in the living room, unsuccessfully trying to watch TV, but I won't tell her that it's useless. Let her try. She should understand that there's nothing we can say to stem this red tide. I think she'll eventually find out.

- Tigger and Kitty inhaled their Thanksgiving plates of turkey, stuffing, green beans, and cranberry sauce. Tigger really does eat faster than I do.

- It was a relief not to have to work on those newsletters for a few days, but nothing got done. Boredom set in again. I did receive a reply from Michael Airington, who plays Paul Lynde in a one-man show, and he agreed to help me with information for my Lynde essay. I sent him another message early Saturday morning asking if he'd consider letting me profile his show. That way, the hard facts about Paul Lynde in that part of the essay are presented in a more interesting manner. In another work-related matter, I'm nearly done with Donald Spoto's James Dean biography. Very well-researched, successfully refuting wrong-headed "facts" from years and decades ago. He's dedicated to thorough research in each of his books.

- I got restless with reading. I wanted to, but Deepak Chopra's "Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul: How to Create a New You," didn't capture my attention like I hoped it would, though it did have a section on not letting time control you. I need to work on that. I haven't started anything new since. Not yet.

- I couldn't watch that version of 12 Angry Men. Tony Danza, William Petersen, Jack Lemmon, Edward James Olmos, James Gandolfini, all fine actors (yes, even Danza, in Taxi), but a distraction in the drama. The original benefited from stark black-and-white cinematography and a smaller jury room to heighten the tension. I think this version also had the misfortune of heading into my VCR less than a week after I watched the original on channel 5. No full movies after that. Surprisingly, nothing I could think of watching. Just episodes of Scrubs from the first season and the eighth season, ahead of Tuesday's double-episode premiere of the new, retooled season on ABC.

So, the one peaceful day, Thanksgiving. Dad also managed to fight with Mom ahead of his birthday on December 1st (the same fight, yesterday's fight), and she loudly regretted having gotten him a few gifts for the day. If the cold weather hadn't let me know already, this fight shows that winter is indeed coming. Thank god for books, and movies, and the much quieter moments I get for myself in these peaceful nighttime hours, where I can be sure the war has stopped for now.

A Calm Thanksgiving, A Busy Thanksgiving, Maybe a Perfect Thanksgiving

Let's see what the two-dog, four-person Aronsky Thanksgiving will have:

- A smoked turkey sent by Greenberg Smoked Turkeys in Tyler, Texas, currently taking up an entire vegetable bin in the refrigerator in its opaque white paper bag. We ordered a turkey from them last year, too, and it's really good. The smoked flavor isn't just on the surface; it's spread throughout the turkey, and the scent reminds me of my former downstairs Cuban neighbors in our condominium in Pembroke Pines, the nights they would smoke their cigars out on their patio, and we'd have to close every window near them, including the sliding door in my parents' bedroom, and turn up the air conditioning. It was annoying and inconvenient, but there are things one remembers just to keep certain places in mind, and aspects of those memories could lead to other ones not thought about for a long time.

- Stove Top stuffing, Ocean Spray jellied cranberry sauce, green beans with French's french fried onions sprinkled on top to remind me that vegetables can be good for me; candied yams (there's an off-limits bag of Kraft jet-puffed marshmallows in one of the lower kitchen cabinets expressly for that), and a 12-inch, round, decorated chocolate chip cookie, because the best pumpkin pie for holiday consumption is at Henry's Farmer's Market in Woodland Hills, and not only would it have been insane to go today to try to get anything from there ahead of Thursday, but Dad worked a full day at school, and it will be the same for him tomorrow, despite most other schools in the district knocking off early. My sister also found a box of Jell-O pumpkin spice pudding at Ralph's, and maybe she'll make that as part of dessert. I can't get my beloved pumpkin pie, so I'd like to have something pumpkin-related at the table. Doubtful I'll find pumpkin egg nog at Ralph's right now either.

- My parents laying down their verbal arms against each other. I'm not completely confident that the bad blood between them has been quelled, because there was that day a few years ago in Pasadena after a bad fight when Mom told Meridith and I that she and Dad were done fighting. Yeah, right. That lasted for about two weeks. But Dad is making an effort this time. Before dinner tonight, Dad actually sat with Mom in the bedroom and they talked. He sat next to her. They talked. She had some things to discuss with him, and he listened. Maybe there were some things she said that he might not have liked to hear---I wasn't in the room, and they were talking pretty low, so I don't know---but he didn't get defensive. He listened. Imagine, 26 years ago, if he had realized that he was out of his childhood household. He didn't have to embody his father's ways. He could drop his family's habits and learn to live better. All those years wouldn't have been wasted. I admit, though, that at least he's learning now. He could have remained steeled against personal change until he dies. We all want to get to Las Vegas. We all want to have a better life. I don't think Mom gave him an ultimatum, but maybe, just maybe, he's understanding how much good we want from these forthcoming new experiences. All the times we've moved have been because of his whims. It's time to enjoy ourselves every day. I'd like to see their marriage improve. It would be a startling, but welcome surprise. Tonight was a strong start.

- There will be Thanksgiving plates for Tigger and Kitty. Turkey, stuffing, green beans, cranberry sauce. Paper plates, but the sentiment is the same. They do so much for us that they deserve part of our feast. They're just as much a part of this family as we are to each other.

- I won't be working on Freelance Daily newsletters on Wednesday night for Thursday and Thursday night for Friday. Off on Thanksgiving Day, obviously, but also on Friday because how many Craigslist ads could there possibly be for freelance writers and other freelance writing-related positions the day after? This means that I need to haul ass on that book. I need to finish reading that James Dean biography, read that Carole Landis biography, and write constantly to make these two nights off, plus Saturday night, make a military Humvee-sized dent in my workload. However, it requires staying off the websites I don't need as well as the ones I use to stave off occasional boredom from this project. That will be the big challenge. But I should remember that I'll have a bigger chunk of free time during those evenings to get a lot done. I can do this. I really can do this. I can...oh hey, I haven't checked my library card yet to see what's come in for me to pick up on Sunday.

- I need to read. I've got Moby Dick, Don Quixote, the latest book by Deepak Chopra ("Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul: How to Create a New You"), because I need a new me; some books my sister checked out for me on her card, including My Booky Wook by Russell Brand, Hotter than That: The Trumpet, Jazz and American Culture, and The Mammoth Book of Haunted House Stories. Plus, I've got three recent issues of The New Yorker I haven't read yet, including the latest, "The Food Issue", and dammit, I just want to get away from this droning machine. But not yet, because I need to read the James Dean and Carole Landis biographies at the computer. I took enough notes by hand, and spent so much time transcribing them that I don't want to do that anymore. I deserve that with these final two books.

- Movies. The 1997 TV movie adaptation of 12 Angry Men with Hume Cronyn, James Gandolfini, William Petersen, Jack Lemmon, and other acting luminaries. I've been curious about it for a long time and fortunately, the library still has VHS copies, one of which I checked out on Sunday. Coincidentally, the night before, I watched the original 1957 film on channel 5 (the CW), and didn't mind that it wasn't in widescreen. It's powerful, no matter the screen format. In the DVD player, I have A Prairie Home Companion from Netflix, which I put at the top of my queue after discovering the titular radio program and immediately becoming a fan of Garrison Keillor in writing and in hosting and voice acting. There are DVDs of the actual programs which were filmed quite a while ago, which are next after I see what this grand group of actors does. Meryl Streep, Kevin Kline, Tommy Lee Jones, Virginia Madsen, Lily Tomlin, and Maya Rudolph are in it, and Lindsay Lohan looks like she actually focused on the script. I've also got The Taking of Pelham 123 from Netflix, the new one with Denzel Washington and John Travolta, just because I wanted to see James Gandolfini playing the mayor of New York City. To go from a mob boss to mayor of New York City is very impressive. It's like how Jeff Bridges went from playing The Dude in The Big Lebowski, to President Jackson Evans in The Contender. I love that kind of movie trajectory.

I hope all this will be Thanksgiving. A great Thanksgiving, our final Thanksgiving here in Santa Clarita.

Halloween Vulture

I am a proud Halloween vulture. I pick clean the dying remnants of the holiday. I skillfully stalk those parts that barely remain alive, and then I pounce, violently bashing out the life left. Or I go to Ralph's, where my sister freaked out today at the bare shelves of the now-former Halloween candy aisles. Time to set up the Christmas displays.

Fortunately, to Meridith's relief and my excitement, all the leftover bags of candy, including the insanely, illogically large ones, were moved to covered long tables between the pharmacy and the refrigerated cheese case. 50% off everything. But it depends on the original price. A small bag of regular Hershey's Kisses with orange and black foil wrappers was discounted to over $5. Meanwhile, my mom got a sizable bag with the standard shiny gray foil wrappers at Wal-Mart yesterday for far less than that and filled one of our containers at home right to the top with them. Also at Wal-Mart yesterday, I found a bag of Reese's pumpkin-shaped peanut butter cups for well over $5. It wasn't as big as the 50-piece variety bag of Reese's products (Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Reese's Sticks, Reese's Pieces, Reese's Fast Break) I found at Ralph's, and though that was $5.49 (down from $10+), I went for it because I like having a selection rather than the same candy dozens of times over.

Oh, and a 4-pound bag of differently-sized Tootsie Rolls. Bars, sticks, pieces, every kind available for a little over $4. I really like it this way. Huge bags of candy, and steep discounts the day after Halloween. No knocking on doors, dressing up in costumes, carrying around pillowcases or whatever one might prefer. I'm too old for that now anyway, but I like to get my pleasures immediately, not walking around and essentially working for it.

Despite that, I'm not cynical toward Halloween. This is not only my favorite holiday where people can change ever so briefly, but it's also when the weather is at its most pleasant. It finally feels right. A calm begins to settle over this valley, slowly melting into every crevice, parking space, doorway, curb, windowpane, and maybe person. It takes some time for that one. The adjustment this year is a lot more shocking than previous years because it feels like the new year began a few weeks ago. Now here we are, in November. Long before I turned 25, the years at least went slow enough to really let one feel the rhythms of each month. But now January goes right into September. I never thought much about the passage of time before this, but with facing the months becoming shorter (and yes, I know I'm still very much young, but this is the first time I've really felt this sharp jolt of realization), I wish this speeding of time could have begun later at 26 or at the start of 27 years old.

Well, as long as Halloween candy is sold cheaper the day after, as long as egg nog continues to be available at the end of October/the start of November, as long as the good feelings of the forthcoming holiday season still begin to develop right now, I can kind of live with the increasing speed of time. I'll just have to begin to read faster and more often now.