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Confessions of a Thanksgiving hater

It starts with Halloween – a sliver of merriment before the loathing sets in.

There will now be six weeks of pity parties, false cheer and the angst of gift-giving. They will hate whatever you buy.

When Shakespeare wrote of “the winter of our discontent,” he didn’t even know about shopping malls and Black Friday.

A surge of Bah Humbug goes through my soul every November when I watch people suffer. Let me count the ways:

1. Homeless people are still starving and freezing.

2. We’re all urged to harness our families for turkey and joy – but how many happy families are there? Are they all alike?

3. How many people, especially women, dread Thanksgiving dinner? Is there anyone who doesn’t fear the fights about politics, or football, or junior’s awful girlfriend? Should troublesome uncle be invited to dinner even though he’s going to fondle, punch or insult at least three of the surly cousins who are trying to hide in their phones?

I’d give thanks if we could abolish Thanksgiving – and truly try to make the world a better place.


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