Some say I’m a dreamer, and others say I’m an idiot. I say I’m practical. It’s Thanksgiving as I write this, and when I turned on this electronic brain, the QQ screen that popped up had a scene of a Chinese family cooking what appeared to be a turkey dinner. You see? I’m not the only one who thinks this should be a world-wide holiday. I mean, with the exception of our editor – who has to work tonight and whose life generally sucks anyway – we all have things to be thankful for, now don’t we? My other favorite holiday has got to be Mid-Autumn Festival. We all have the moon above our heads. Why not celebrate it when it’s at its biggest? Makes perfect sense to me. I’ve got this dream that for Thanksgiving this year we would all get together in some cozy spot, and have good old-fashioned fun with some turkey imported from the US. It would be made into sausages by a crafty dude from Cumberland, and barbequed by another friendly dude from Anhui. They would be served on bread baked by a generous chef from Paris, and they would all be eaten by a bunch of half -pissed customers from all over the world. For it isn’t a holiday in my family’s book until most everybody is half pissed. All of the food would be free thanks to the bearded owner of the aforementioned cozy spot, and it would be consumed while listening to the wannabe Jamaican, really French, DJ. Then I would hop into a cab and have an encore dinner with my family at another friend’s house, with an old shifty Swiss guy, a former builder from Atlanta whose name I can never remember, and his wife, who comes from a country that’s got a name I can never spell. We would eat, enjoy, and all be well lubricated by the strong drinks served by the mother of the former builder. Finally, I would get into a slowly-driven taxi to take the little one home to bed, everybody would go to a restaurant owned by a wannabe French, really Hangzhounese dude, and we would top off the evening with cocktails, shaken not stirred, by the local mixologist from Bujumbura. Nobody would be run over while driving their e-bikes home, and I would have a nice array of dreams in languages I can’t understand. Now that’s my definition of a good Thanksgiving.
Could this all come true? I certainly hope so, because although I might be dreaming now, it is exactly how I’ve planned to spend my night. And you’re welcome.
However you do it or did it, considering you’re reading this after the fact, is entirely up to you, but do make sure the next time you plan your holiday, it’s centered around great food and fantastic people. Here’s to wishing all of you other dreamers out there a wonderful holiday season. And with that, I’m off to help that other fat dude prepare some sausages.
By Tim Hoerle