I’ve always enjoyed my family tradition for Thanksgiving, but didn’t realize it was out of the mainstream at first. I thought with a certain naïveté that since everyone got the day off and everyone was talking turkey, everyone must celebrate it the same way too. Eventually, after seeing several movies of people indoors and not beating the shit out of a piñata, I hypothesized that maybe my family did things a bit differently. To test it, I asked a school friend after Thanksgiving, “So what did you get out of your piñata?” and received a look of complete bewilderment in return. That clinched it. My family was the strange one. But also very cool.
We go out to the desert and have Thanksgiving dinner outdoors. We can do that because it’s Arizona, and nine years out of ten the weather is just fine on the fourth Thursday of November. Refusing to succumb to food comas, we then climb a hill with a beautiful view of Rio Verde and some almond orchards, snap a few pictures, then climb back down and ritualistically, mercilessly, joyfully thrash an innocent piñata to death. Don’t judge; it’s great fun and we bond over the shared violence, and besides, that papier mâché had it coming.
There is much to give thanks for this year. Hope you have many blessings to count and you enjoy lots of warm fuzzies, and maybe hot chocolate with marshmallows.