On Thanksgiving it seems appropriate to reflect on tradition and the role it plays in my life. Ok, Mum, you can stop humming the song now. And that, folks, is one of many traditions in my life--people in my family sing at the drop of the hat, provoked or inspired by whatever turn the conversation takes.
My mother was not a traditional cook (that's another post entirely) but on holidays we did it right: turkey, ham, or lamb with all the trimmings. Everything from soup to nuts was made from scratch, never a bag of stuffing or can of anything in sight. Whatever I thought about food the rest of the year (again, another post) I knew I would love the holiday meal. Whether it is a result of that part of my childhood, or just due to my ornery and conservative nature, the menu on Thanksgiving is allowed only the most minor of variations. Maybe the potatoes will not be mashed, or the stuffing will have a slightly different list of ingredients (but always, always sage), and the pies vary most years, but the basics of the menu are engraved in stone. If there isn't turkey with stuffing, potatoes, rolls, cranberry sauce, and pies, Thanksgiving Did Not Happen.
I value tradition enormously. Maybe because the best parts of my childhood seemed bound up in it with not just holiday meals but other, daily customs. My mother read aloud after dinner as we sat around the table and my dad sliced up apples and shared a slice or two, and I did that with my family for many years. We have family sayings that are directly traceable to some fairly distant ancestors. We have stories of even more distant ancestors, going back hundreds of years. Every tradition binds us to the people we share it with, today and all those yesterdays.
Sometimes I struggle with TFL over traditions, because he's such an iconoclast he doesn't ever care to do something just because that's how it's done. That's good for me, because I need to be challenged regularly--we all do--or I risk becoming stodgy and boring. (Ok, not really. I mean, I'll always be too snarky to be that stodgy.) Challenging tradition keeps it alive, I think, and meaningful. But sometimes you have to give in and do things the long way just because. Because you realize when you don't, when you try to take a shortcut or get too busy to bother, something is missing, not quite right, just a bit less than what it could be. Maybe it's the stuffing, maybe it's life.
Every tradition has its starting point, of course. LL and I have already discussed future reunions that we'll have. We'll go to Texas sometimes for fun and great TexMex and margaritas. They'll come to the City sometimes for fun and shows and shopping (oh yes, she'll spend more than $200--I'm a BAD influence!).
Beanie, you love golf and that game is all about tradition. What are 7 things we should know about you?
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