November 16, 2017--About the Nicest Thanksgiving Story Ever

During breakfast at Cafe Rona (how we refer to our sweet mornings at home), after ten days back in New York City where a single shot of espresso in a paper cup can cost as much as $4.50, where an ordinary egg sandwich in an undistinguished place can arrogantly cast $18, we spoke about feeling ripped off. 

Few people on Broadway are smiling. Most walk through the swarming downtown streets with their heads drooping, buried in so-called smart phones. I have taken to calling them dumb phones since that seems to be the affect they are having on people who look as if they are shuffling along like crack addicts.

Clearly, we are not feeling happy. To quote Wordsworth, too many are involved in "getting and spending" and thus "lay waste their powers." For him, the power to be a part of Nature.

Most everything is commodified--where we live and shop, how we work and play, where we seek fulfillment and, hopefully, love. 

So much is rank ordered. It seems as if everyone, everything is situated within social, economic, and cultural hierarchies so one literally knows where one stands. Most feel unhappy with their sense of how they are doing.

For almost everyone, the answer is that they feel they are not succeeding even if by objective standards we are by comparison to almost everyone else on the planet among the most privileged, particularly in the context of what is most valued--authority, affluence, power, stuff.

Our longing for the life we left behind in Maine (where we cannot extend the season because our cottage is a "primitive" relic of the last century that is more about charm and coziness than infrastructural systems--I mean, we do not have much insulation and very little heat) our longing for a simpler, more authentic life is intensified as we see all the desperate seeking that surrounds us.

And thus we are not much looking forward to the holidays. For the most part here they too are often about desperation. To find ways to feel optimistic, to feel cheered by our place in the world, and sufficiently distracted to get through the days and out the other side to 2018. 

But then on Facebook there was a notice posted by one of our favorite local restaurants in Bristol, Maine--the Harbor Room.

I read it quite early yesterday morning and thus needed to reread it later in the day to make sure I hadn't misunderstood or had been hallucinating. 

Co-owners and friends Taylor Corson and Cerina Leeman posted--

Everyone has been inquiring as to what our plan is for Thanksgiving, so here it is . . .  

We are excited to share that we will be providing a Community Thanksgiving Dinner free of charge to all who come!  

Nothing is more rewarding than bringing our community together and we want to provide an opportunity for everyone to share a delicious meal with neighbors, friends, and family regardless of circumstance. 

Help us spread the word! We will also deliver to those with transportation issues with advanced requests.

Now we know where we want to be, including on Thanksgiving, but . . .

Taylor Corson & Cerina Leeman

October 31, 2013--Thanksgivukah

In an unusual coincidence, this year two movable feasts will occur at the same time. Thanksgiving and Hanukah.

Thanksgiving is "movable" because it is celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November and Hanukah occurs on the 25th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev. Though the Hebrew and Gregorian calendars do not overlap, Hanukah is usually celebrated in early December but occasionally, including this year, it occurs in late November. Thus the confluence of Hanukah and Thanksgiving. The last time that happened was 1888.

Taking advantage of the early arrival of Hanukah, Manischewitz is launching a major ad campaign to encourage their customers to celebrate "Thanksgivukah."

To give you a flavor for this, check out Manischewitz's special Thansgivukah website where the familiar Hanukah menorah, or candelabra, is shown topped with a turkey; or better, look carefully at another image of a turkey where its tail feathers are mashed-up with a menorah so that each feather becomes one of the traditional nine Hanukah candles. Sort of clever.

Then if you have the time, take a look at how Manischewitz suggests using its food products as part of one's Thanksgiving meal.

How, for example, they claim their famous chicken soup ("Jewish penicillin") is ideal for making turkey stuffing. And how their Tam Tams (matzoh-like crackers) "are here for all your Thankgivukah schmears."

For the younger, computer-oriented set, Manischewitz has a line of e-cards. One shows a man with a pipe who says, "When it comes to Thanksgivukah, I rock it old schul." With "shul" being the Yiddish word for "synagogue" or, if your prefer, "temple."

According to the New York Times, which keeps track of these kinds of cultural trends, another e-card shows an all-American family from the Dick and Jane era (well, maybe this pitch isn't after all focused on the youthful) with a groaner of a pun, "There's no place like home for the Challahdays." (Challah being the egg bread served during many Jewish holidays.)

While a third shows two couples at a table in front of a turkey. "Mmm . . . ," the caption reads, "Do I smell latkas?" (Potato pancakes, for the uninitiated.)

One thing I am thankful for--there won't be another confluence of Thanksgiving and Hanukah for about 225 years. In the meantime, I won't be celebrating Thanksgivukah.