There’s a battle brewing in my household. On one side, there’s my wife. She likes the idea of having holidays in far off lands. There’s some inconsistencies in this plan, as she also doesn’t uniquely love air travel, but still, to have a holiday such as this one today in some far away place doesn’t seem like a bad idea to her. She thinks it would be easier, and in that she’s not wrong. But there’s a problem with this plan and it’s the absence of tradition. Angsty, frustrating, conflict riddled tradition. This is why today I’ll be in the old brown house where I’ve spent all of my Thanksgivings. Every. Single. One. There might be a time coming when Thanksgiving dinner will be at a nice hotel overlooking a foreign beach, but that time is not today. Today, it’s just the same old place with the same old turkey and for that, I’m thankful.
