There Will Be No Thanksgiving Dinner
(Or, Prophetic Parental Pronouncements and the Folly of Nihilistic Youth)

When I was in high school and growing up in the Desert, my older brother and I were in a band together, and we used to party so much that it's a wonder we're still alive.

One year, the night before Thanksgiving, school had gotten out early and we went to a drink fest at the drummer in our band's brother's house. We ended up getting so drunk and high we could barely stand up. After partying well into the night and getting sloppier by the minute, we decided it was time to go home. I wanted to drive, so I got behind the wheel and my bro got in beside me. I could barley stay on the road, let alone keep my eyes open. I recall becoming interested in a jackrabbit crossing the road and proceeded to follow it off the road and into a field. Boom, crash, shake, smash.

My brother got behind the wheel.

After he started driving, I passed out apparently. The next thing I remember was hearing someone tapping the window of my brother's car. It was my friend who lived across the street from us. My brother was draped over the steering wheel out cold, and I was laying back against the seat. We both woke up to find ourselves embedded in the side of the raod in the dirt, having just gone through a stop sign which crossed a usually busy road which cars sped down. My friend said he thought we were dead. We quickly got out of the car and tried to free it from the embankment, but with no luck. We were only a block from our house, and so we walked home.

My Dad was there waiting for us, and yelled at us to stay out side. "You will not come into this house. You will do yardwork all day long," he yelled. There was shouting through the open windows, and I could see the blurry figures of our parents through the dirty screens. My mom shouting, "But Honey, what about Thanksgiving?" (The turkey was in the oven, I believe.)

My father lowered his voice and said.

"There will be no Thanksgiving dinner."

I was in shock. We had instantly become responsible for cancelling an entire holiday.

We went to the side of the yard where the weeds were, laid down in the dirt with our "hula ho's" (an inventive weeding device which made weeding a lot easier), and tried to keep from puking as we stared at the sea-sick patterns of weeds and leaves in the dirt. It would prove to be a long day, and even longer "holiday" weekend.