🍗 The Nouns of November 22, 2024

1. NEW CONSPIRACIES: Your mom’s a lizard person.

2. NEW NAPS: Sweatshirt blanket.

3. NEW BOOZE: 1910.

🍗 What to respond to your weird uncle's comments next Thursday.

When you look at the calendar, the holidays all seem kind of random.

They individually have meaning, but as a whole, they are kind of… scattered.

February is for love.

March is for drinking too much.

July is for America.

December is for Jesus and/or drinking too much.

I would like to submit a conspiracy theory to whoever is in charge of that.

(yes, I know it’s whomever, but the word whom is also a conspiracy)

I submit: The founding fathers made up all the holidays to help us deal with disappointing elections.

Here’s my evidence.

The final holiday before the presidential election is Halloween.

In October, we are rooting for our hero candidate, who promises to save us all, and demonizing our political opponents.

While a war rages on the news, we are planning to dress up as our heroes and demons and face our fears in order to get some candy.

Within a week, those fears get way too real.

The presidential election is the ultimate trick or treat.

Then what happens after the election?

What’s the next holiday?

If you’re going to say Thanksgiving, you’re wrong.

It’s Christmas.

If you don’t believe me, go outside and look at your neighbor’s house.

Do you see a bunch of Thanksgiving lights?

No?

Didn’t think so.

Straight from super hero costume to Christmas.

[Insert shockingly appropriate gif here]

Somehow, after what feels like an irreparable divide is torn in the very fabric of our culture, we find the courage exhaustion to throw the yard signs away and replace them with a giant inflatable snowman.

Then we ask Santa to bring us a Christmas miracle to make everything okay.

And when he doesn’t deliver, we wait a week, and attempt to take some damn accountability.

So we make resolutions to be better.

To make a difference.

And when that doesn’t work we hope love might help.

And when that doesn’t work we try some green beer.

And sooner or later we’re right back where we started.

So what about Thanksgiving?

Do you remember the first time you got a tattoo, or a questionable face piercing, or a yeah-maybe-I-was-going-through-something haircut?

You felt great about it around your friends.

So cool, dude.

But then you had to go home to do some laundry and freaked the f out the entire drive home because you just know that your mom or dad is going to make a whole thing out of it.

That’s post-election turkey day.

It should be great.

But you know your weird uncle is going to say something weird and a few months ago you would have laid out a perfect argument rooted in well cited facts but after everything it just feels like a waste of time and you would rather stare into your gravy in silence than get pulled into an argument about the space cabal of lizard people controlling the country’s 52 states from the basement of Abraham Lincoln’s childhood log cabin slash nuclear bunker slash covid bat farm.

So we just think about Christmas.

Maybe Santa will bring you that thing you want.

Here are a few canned responses to things you might hear at your parent’s house next Thursday in case you don’t want to think anymore.

Uncle Chuck: Did you see that scientists are saying inflation was caused by the too many tax dollars being spent on the zoo?
You: You belong in the zoo.

Aunt Beth: I can’t believe you would get a tattoo. Your skin used to be so beautiful. You’re going to regret that when you’re older.
You: Your skin used to be beautiful too. It must just be getting old, not the tattoos.

Uncle John: Would you like me to show you how to convert your car to run on leftover animal fat? I get like 2 miles to the turkey leg in my converted prius.
You: I’m calling PETA.

Grandma Jo: I put extra butter in the mashed potatoes. I know they’re your favorite. Unless you want to skip them this year since you’ve put on a little weight since that wonderful girl broke up with you. I liked her.
You: Grandma, can you pass the butter? These potatoes are a little bland.

Dad’s old college roommate who we call “Uncle” Doug even though we aren’t related: Who’se up for a Turkey Trot 5k in the morning to really get the blood pumping?
You: This might come as a surprise, but I’m actually Noah Lyles, so I’m good, but thanks.

Hope that helps.

Hang in there, it’s almost Christmas

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In case of tryptophan…

Big Blanket Co makes… big blankets.

I bought one for my wife years ago and they are legitimately great if you can get past the brief panic of figuring out how the hell to wash it.

They started making sweatshirts.

If you ate too much turkey, or just want to hide from everyone for a minute, this might be exactly what you need.

💤

Fighting fire with firewater.

There is one way to simultaneously make and break a rough thanksgiving.

Whiskey.

If you want the credit for showing up something more than the traditional gas station bottle of wine, I would recommend Old Forester 1910.

It’s my favorite from the Whiskey Row series and is absolutely delicious.

It also has the added benefit of making you willing to say things you might not have otherwise.

Actually maybe don’t.

If you go for it and want to sound like you know what you’re talking about, here are some talking points to impress that one uncle:

1. “Old Forester was actually the first bottled bourbon, so it’s pretty legit.”

2. “The 1910 is double barreled, so if you like Woodford Double Oak, you’ll love it.”

3. “The charred oak leads with a clean peripheral spice.” (I got that one from the website. I don’t know what that means.)