A Generation Apart

I spent a lot of time yesterday thinking about what I was going to write about today. I dissected a number of themes including: the role capitalism plays in our holiday traditions (boring), the real and sordid history of Thanksgiving (been done), and finally, things in my own life that I'm thankful for (sentimental rubbish). In the end, I decided to discard all of these ideas and write instead about the gaping hole that exists between my generation and all those that precede it. This is the story of my Thanksgiving. Due to my work schedule, I decided to stay in the town I'm currently living and celebrate Turkey Day with a few friends. Thanksgiving is a strange holiday because, realistically, it's all about food. The underlying events of the said holiday have been either forgotten or drastically altered enough to the point where they cease to hold any sort of significance. How many families do you know tell the story of the one day our ancestors decided not to screw over the Indians and they all shared a meal together? At any rate, we had big plans for our Thanksgiving celebration. There was to be hors d'oeuvres, ham, mashed potatoes, pies, etc. My donation, per usual, was to bring the wine and baked goods (for those who are not from the midwest, baked goods consist of brownies, bars, scotcheroos, and danishes). I never actually learned how to cook, so my meal contribution usually takes the form of sitting in the kitchen and entertaining the cooks while I consume vast amounts of red wine. This year was to be no exception. The gang woke up around 11:30am. We had crashed the night before around one in the morning, so we all looked bright-eyed and refreshed. We decided, in an effort to reject societal norms, that we would start cooking later in the afternoon and have a nice mid-evening supper . . . so we went about our day the same way we would any other. We watched three episodes of 'Lost,' my friend Harry played a couple games of Madden 10 on the PS3, and we had cracked a bottle of wine. Finally, around 3:00pm we decided it was probably time to look at the recipe for the ham and start cooking. You can imagine our surprise when we realized the ham would have to be cooked for over FIVE HOURS! Who knew it took so long to cook a ham, much less a 12lb ham. After the ham went in the oven, we had some time to kill. I finished the first season of 'Lost' (brilliant) and we decided to play a card game. Since we had so many bottles of wine and it was gong to be about 2.5 hours until the ham was done, someone got the bright idea that we should turn UNO into a drinking game. After going through three bottles of wine and a quarter of a bottle of tequila (not to mention some rousing rounds of UNO) we were all well on our way to being half in the bag. The next two hours were a blur (probably because I was drunk . . . ). People were running in and out of the kitchen, there was yelling and fighting, and finally, around 10:15pm, the meal was done. I must say the food was very good. Unfortunately, I passed out before the pies had cooled . . .

Now - let's rewind the clock back to noon. I called my family and my mom tells me that her and my dad had been up since 4:00am preparing the food and the house for company. The whole while I'm thinking to myself, "I'm so glad we don't have to follow the dictates of a timeline that other people have thrust on us" and "good for us for having such an outside the box Thanksgiving." But the truth is, making such a momentous meal was stressful (and I easily did the least amount of work). You're probably asking yourself, "what's the point? So what? You guys are unorganized shmucks, what does that say about your generation?" I happen to think it says a lot. It reflects a new perspective on responsibility and efficiency. When our parents were our age (early to mid-twenties), many of them were already married, had children, and had started the job that they would consider their 'career.' These days, there are very few of us in that boat. This changes the way we regard responsibility. When I seriously ask the question: who am I responsible for? The answer is short and simple, I'm responsible for myself. Hence, I have no interest in taking on the societal baggage that comes with hosting 'traditional' seasonal gatherings. Hell, I can hardly arrange my own breakfast! But this shift in responsibility has brought other changes as well. It has birthed a new era of efficiency. Efficiency can be defined as an 'effective operation as measured by a comparison of production with cost' (Merriam-Webster). I don't mean this strictly in terms of how we view holidays, marriage, or cooking, but rather it effects the lens through which we view all things. We, as a generation, are in a unique position to dispel the traditions and ideals that our predecessors have been clinging to for so long. Perhaps the world needs a cultural makeover . . . or perhaps we're all so stuck in our ways that change is a faraway fantasy. I found out last night that a Thanksgiving dinner takes a lot of hard work, time, and money. So what am I going to do next year if faced with a similar predicament? I'll probably try to convince my friends that we should hit up a restaurant instead.