Thanksgiving.

Turkey, family, and a nap.

All hail the holiday season!

Who would have thought a day to celebrate historical events most of us have no idea about would turn into a free-reign buffet line combined with a Bed, Bath and Beyond public relations tool on a fall Thursday?

Not exactly idolization of the pilgrims and indians, is it?

Folks, the staff at NH DotComedy likes Thanksgiving as much as the next lazy, fat group of NFL fans, but shouldn't we stop sometimes, take a deep breath, take the candied yam out of our piehole and try to find some respect for the fourth Thursday in November?


It's not just a day off work, folks. Thanksgiving is more than just Black Friday Eve, and DotComedy staff thinks that gets overlooked more than it should.

Look, no one here is trying to jam the historical meaning of Thanksgiving down your gullet like a drumstick greased up with gravy and guilt, but the bottom line is there is a reason this is a national holiday. Sorry if all you Rachel Ray cult followers look at this as nothing more than a reason to try out those Justin Bieber pot holders, but there is a reason we all spend this coming Thursday concocting ways to loosen up the buttons on our Levis.

Tom Turkey is a great icon, assuming we all believe Plymouth Rock and everything else associated with Thanksgiving is nothing more than a pipe dream, but at the end of the day, Thanksgiving should be about more than overeating and Rolaids.

Is it really all about dinner? Is that why we all get a day off work and the post office shuts down on a Thursday? If that is the case, maybe we should have National Hamburger Day recognized and have American Greetings Cards dripping in grease and American cheese flying off the shelves on a Tuesday in March with cows being pardoned by the president.

Again, we like Thanksgiving, but in our older age, we just need the holiday to mean more than just a reason to eat a wild bird we don't normally taste unless our freezer is empty with the exception of a Swanson TV dinner.

There has to be a happy medium.

So here is a radical thought: Appreciate for what it is truly about while you are bloating yourself with stuffing and niblet corn.

The Wednesday before is a great party night. The Friday after is a day set off from the main calendar to get absurd in a department store at 4 a.m. Thursday HAS to be about more than just Butterball and pumpkin pie.

At least, we hope it is, folks. Happy Thanksgiving.

Got a problem with that?

Take it up with Rachel Ray.

BTilton@News-Herald.com

Apparently, McDonalds is so powerful in the fast food industry that they can put "Mc" in front of just about anything and make it sound appetizing.

McNuggets. McPizza. McRib. McIntestine. McGym Socks. McJock Strap. McTobacco Spitoon?

Ironically, they all taste the same, by the way.

Does McRepulsive fit on the big board at the Golden Arches?

How about after eating more than five of these genetic culinary Frankensteins called McRib sandwiches, will the term McLawsuit hold any water and if not, can we call a McDoctor?

Think about the creativity, time and preparation it takes to create a really tasty, world-class slab of ribs? No, strike that. Think about how scary it is to have a boneless filet of saucy cartliage plopped on a bun and called a value meal?

The McRib is back, folks! Quick, get in your McVehicle and get ready to beat the McRiot to the drive-thru window.

Hey, Martin and Lewis were great once, but not many people were banging on the dashboard in their Kia for that comeback, were they? Some things need to stay retired, and McRib is one of those archived icons of Americana that should stay asleep.

And the commercial? Folks, it's not just that the McRib commetcials are lame, but they are borderline unwatchable and have as much of an adverse effect on the appetite as watching Rosie O'Donnell compete in a competitive Twinkie eating contest.

Sauce dripping amidst sexual overtones? Ronald McDonald should spinning over in his deep fried, special sauce grave with pickles, onions and sesame seeds, but the problem is Ronny isn't dead yet. He's just a clown trying to figure out a way to have the lion tamer from Burger King blind him with a Whopper grease mask.

Yep, BK circus humor intertwined with disgusting fast food details ... deal with it.

Folks, these ads make it seem like the McRib is some sort of Aphrodesiac for the taste buds when in actuality this is nothing more than a few boneless chunks of whatever didn't hit the floor of the Mickey Ds in your neighborhood slathered in ketchup and honey.

Nobody enjoys sauce running down their face like some a deranged downhill skiier fighting the slalom toward your freshly creased Dockers. And anyone that excited about a 700 calorie piece of barely edible garbage should not only have their head examined, but should turn their SAG card over to Meryl Streep-wannabe Paris Hilton.

Assuming, of course, that Ms. Streep is on McRib overload and is barely breathing when the EMTs arrive on the set as she is getting BBQ sauce drained from her eyelids.

McRib - eat at your own risk.

Yep, just what we needed back in the American culture. And there's nothing like watching grown adults slobber over it in a TV ad so repugnant that the chili at Wendy's seems like jumbalaya at Emeril's place in Las Vegas.

Got a problem with that? Take it up with Ronald McDonald.

BTilton@News-Herald.com