No Thanksgiving Please, We're British.

Thanksgiving is one of those Holidays that, as foreigners, we just can’t get the hang of. Plan A has always been to avoid it by taking a cruise. However since The Son went to UMD, their measly 4 day break has put paid to that, so we have to resort to Plan B, staying home and trying to avoid getting invited to someone else’s gathering.

In the words of the man at the liquor store last week, “when it comes to Holidays, Thanksgiving has it all. You can’t beat the 3 F’s, Family, Football and Food”. Really”?

So we can do the first one, “Family”. The son will be coming home, battling the metro and bus crowds, hoping some kind soul will pick him up in Damascus because The Parents are too mean (or sane) to drive to College Park. So there will be 4 for dinner instead of 3.

“Football”. I don’t think so. I prefer the football that has shorts and rippling thigh muscles flying up the wing to kick the ball, to the “football” with men in pads and tights holding the ball and mincing around.

“Food”? Not looking good. The Daughter is vegetarian, and The Husband dislikes turkey. The Wife doesn’t think vegetables belong in dessert, nor marshmallows in potatoes. Nor does she think that a can of green beans mixed in with a can of condensed soup and topped with a can of fried onions constitutes either a casserole or a vegetable side dish, and thinking about the preservatives just makes her head spin. The Son however isn’t picky and is secretly hoping for pumpkin pie, despite the fact that The Mother only ever uses pumpkins to make jack-o-lanterns.

If ever there was a Holiday in need of a facelift, this is it.

So....

We will be eating The Governor of Wisconsin’s Roast Duck with Michael Caine’s Roast Potatoes, (not sure what they’re having!). We will take our family Christmas photo, which will once again be blighted by “No Shave November” and then disappear in opposite directions with our laptops.

Thanksgiving Bliss!

Pretentious? Toi?

I really don’t get much chance to listen to the radio nowadays, and mainly just dip into Steve Wright on the 2 or 3 mornings (I’m 5 hours behind) when I’m not at work.

Unbelievably after years and years of not hearing a peep out of Clifford T Ward, I’ve heard him played twice on that show in the past couple of weeks. Last week there was “Wherewithal” and today, just as I was getting into the shower, I heard an intro, immediately recognised it and thought “Bloody hell, that’s Clifford T Ward, AGAIN! Has he died?”.

I admit to never having liked the badly coiffed Clifford T. I initially laid the blame firmly at the feet of Mr Hague, our old english teacher, who used to think he was wonderful, perhaps because he was a fellow english teacher made good. Making us analyse his lyrics in class didn’t help endear him to us either.

With the maturity that comes with adulthood, I wondered if I would now better appreciate his flowery poetic lyrics? Today we had the leaking cistern in Home Thoughts from Abroad, last week it was nonpareil, elation and nonchalant, all in the same sentence. I’m sure next week the tray of nice things will be upset. Has he grown on me? Nope. I just cringed and thought “Pretentious, Toi?”

Oh and while we’re on the subject of pretentious, if you were called Clifford Ward, why would you add your middle initial instead of shortening your name to the snappier Cliff Ward, I mean it’s hardly a common name, is it???

So, here's "Home Thoughts from Abroad". Let's hope they've called the plumber.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s_rRHCOTXA