Another year has passed and I am still biking my way through Japan. It seems like only yesterday that I left with a heart full of ambition and a mind filled with meaningless trivia. I have spent a fair share of my time here on airplane rides to and from America. I have realized, during those holidays I am not allowed to take off because I have classes to teach, that I have a soft spot in my heart for Thanksgiving.
Growing up Catholic and meandering more towards sympathetic atheism, I have realized that I really like Thanksgiving because it gives Americans a holiday that we don't have to trace back to a super religious or overly patriotic event in our nations history. The holiday started in this country during a time when we, as a people, were still babies hanging on to our mother's tits for nourishment. Our only holiday that takes place during a time when we didn't have American history, we had the history of the nations that sent their explorers to this land. We celebrate a holiday that takes place during a time when North America was still a unique place of many different cultures and languages. I try to remember this holiday in my mind. The time when we were the starving heathens who didn't know how to survive in this new land. We were saved, we grew, and we enslaved everything that we could: men, women, children, electricity, the atom, etc.
I had my second Thanksgiving in Japan. I was lucky enough to go to a nice party. We did have turkey this year, even though last years chicken was just as good. I went to Zane's house, he is our Prefectural Advisor. He was good enough to have about 10 to 15 people at his cozy home. I went to this Thanksgiving with Kimi, my girlfriend. I was excited to go and I was ready to have a good time. As the night moved progressed I started to think more about the wonderful Thanksgivings of my years in Omaha.
I thought of going to my Uncle Charlie's house when I was a young boy. His house seemed like an old fashion mansion, not exactly large but stately. My Uncle Charlie has always been a strong, intelligent figure in my life. I have a very intelligent family, but my Uncle Charlie seemed to know so many people and so many interesting stories. Before moving to the "country," while still living in the "city," my Uncle made the stories of small town life seem so interesting. The vivid way that he would tell stories about the clients he served as a lawyer, weaved itself permanently into my imagination.
While watching football on TV, the smell of my Uncle's pipe would permeate the house. Much like the forgotten ancestors our European counterparts shuffled away onto reservations, I would hear Charlie, my Grandpa Smith, and my father tell these perfectly narrated stories about small town life. With the smell of tabacco wafting through the room, instead of a teepee we sat on a plush couch listening to our elders. A family of great story tellers is better than any holiday special Disney could create.
I also loved going into my Uncle's basement, which was another shrine to who I am as a person. The three days a year that I was able to move from my caste to another brought me into this wonderful house of games. Growing up in South Omaha, I didn't have as much opporotunity to mingle with different classes of people. Namely those people who owned and purchased video games. At the Catholic school that I attended there were many kids with video games. I remember vividly hearing about the kids talking about levels and warps. I also remember not ever being too interested in the kids from my school, or, at least, they weren't interested in me. I only recall having 1 friend the whole time I was at that school, and he didn't even have video games. I regress...
Those few high holidays that allowed us all to meet at Uncle Charlie's house, were my favorites. I used to pray that we didn't have to go to Aunt Ann's house, not for any malice towards Aunt Ann, but her house was boring ass hell. Charlie's house had a pinball machine and a Nintendo. Just watching the older kids play was a glorious event to me, but those few times that everybody would leave the room and I was left of touch this sacred machine. I remember kids talking about that little grey box in hushed voices inside Tuesday church, saints and Christ himself were not spoken about so reverentially.
Even in recent years, without as much emphasis placed on video game entertainment, I always love going to my Uncle Charlie's house for Thanksgiving. The conversation is always interesting. My grandmother's prays last for 10's of minutes, usually with scattered giggles by many at the table, followed by swift kicks.
I love Thanksgiving. I love being around people I love on Thanksgiving. Because of this, this year's Thanksgiving was extremely depressing. While there was one person there that I love, most of the other people lie on a spectrum of hot and cold. A couple of the people I would place my feelings for them just past warm, but others bob about like ice cubes. I wanted to have my own Thanksgiving party, to surround myself with people I love and tell them all about why I love them and how they have shaped my life in the past year. But, I didn't. And, at this perfectly wonderful Thanksgiving party I couldn't tell the one person who I do love, why this year has been so good for me.
I had a good time at the party, but like a venereal disease, sometimes things look okay but in reality things might not be okay under it all. While talking, eating, and drinking, underneath I started to feel more depressed about missing Thanksgiving. I drank, and drank until 6 cans of beer, a bottle of Johnny Walker Black, and a partial bottle of whiskey another guy brought were ingested.
What a nice Catholic way of dealing with depression! Keep it all inside and let the whiskey take care of it. Well, Dr. Grey, of Grey's Anatomy fame, took care of me the rest of the night. Running between my futon and the bathroom for the rest of the night made all thoughts of Thanksgiving disappear, along with my turkey dinner.
Actually, Kimi was the one who took care of me the rest of the night. Thanks Kimi. I'm not sure if I said it during our "What are you thankful for?" game, but I am thankful for you. I am thankful because every other day of the year that I miss America, I don't miss it as much when you are around. Thanks.
