Thanksgiving looms, and many of us are preparing to get into our Honda Civic hybrids and head off to eat turkey with the proverbial family back home--aka the 31% of America that still polls for Bush.
Hey! Don’t look at it as a time-machine ride back to an Orwellian alternate-universe Christo-Stalinist Hooterville.
Look at it as an opportunity to talk to people who (having watched nothing but Fox for the last few decades) might actually be appreciative when you break the news about Abramoff, global warming, that Bush is not universally loved around the globe, and that Cheney shot a “dear friend” in the face and left him bleeding in the dirt while he drove off with his entourage of personal government ambulances to a fine dining soiree back at the estate.
On the other hand...might your attempts at education turn the holiday gathering into your very own family version of “Michael Richards Night at the Apollo”? Could happen (again). But let’s be optimistic. Maybe THIS year...
The Problem
Ah! The old homestead!
Where Mom has the complete “Bush at Prayer” 50-state-plate commemorative collectors set, and Dad still hasn’t caught on about the “N” word, and sister-in-law urgently presses a “God Hates Fags” Bible tract into your hand, and the uncle who lives in the basement keeps wheedling you to go downstairs and look at his gun collection (“Come on. I’ll let you hold it”). And where even the kiddees would like to go have a beer with George W. Bush.
Where you actually hear people starting sentences with the words “Jesus told me...”.
Where more than one family member has countered your logically constructed exegesis of race and public policy with, “If you like ‘em so much you must be one.”
Where one gets the distinct impression that those dear hearts and gentle people--if Dr. Dobson so advised--would rip out your still beating heart and eat it raw.
Yes, it’s home for the most dreadful of holidays; dreadful because at its center is an obligatory meal that ritually requires you to make small talk with people whose so simply stated ideas and beliefs make your blood run cold with terror; and recalling the words “my relatives--can vote” will jerk you out of a sound sleep on many a night.
And yet, you too were once there. You too once shared those values (and then you turned 12). And there may be some souls to be salvaged; some votes to be rescued. And you owe it to your party, your cause, and your country to at least TRY to bring a few lost souls to the light.
Be Prepared
First, remove all bumper stickers such as “Don’t Blame Me--I voted for Kerry," "Buck Fush," "Bushit," or "A Village in Texas is Missing it’s Idiot." In fact remove ALL bumper stickers, lest you be pulled over and asked to explain to Deputy Fife just what you’re getting at. "‘Big brother is watching’? Whose big brother?” And dontcha want us to win the war on terror? And maybe you jist better git in the cruiser and come down town. (And don’t say “You have a ‘down town?!”)
Second, in preparation for the gathering, check out the most recent Republican Talking Points and work on your 30-second responses.
Hint: In order to bone up on the latest main-stream-right-wing-media news cycle spins (e.g., “Kerry vows to join the Taliban and train to be a suicide bomber”), versus what really happened (he left another word out of a joke), tune your car radio to the closest Air America Radio station. Also do a little research so you know where to find new AAR stations on the way (you may have to do some artful zig-zagging to keep tuned).
Unfortunately, you will probably eventually enter a time zone where your commercial radio listening pleasure is limited to a choice between Fascism (Limbaugh, Savage, Ingrams) and Dominionism (Falwell, Robertson, Haggard), so also have a list of NPR stations (and pray the GOP has turned off the pre-election jamming signal).
Holiday Conversation Starters
So now you are all seated round the festive table and thoughts of the dining scene in Rocky Horror Picture Show flash through your head. Up until then, all talk has centered around football and The Rapture. How to nudge the repartee in the direction of some progressive issues? Let me offer a few conversation starters. Although I have not tried them all, I think I can guarantee these will make for a Thanksgiving both lively and memorable.
Another hint: There is usually a hush just as the turkey arrives at the table. That’s a great time to chime in.
- I hear you’re a Rush fan. So tell me; just what is an anal cyst, anyway?
- Have you seen the First Lady on TV recently? So whaddaya think? Over-medication or stroke?
- Did Jenna ever get her wallet back from that coke dealer?
- Anybody else been following the rumors about Bush poking Condi?
- Golly, I’m months behind on my TV preacher viewing. What is Rev. Haggard up to these days?
- So you think Bush doubling the national debt doesn’t double your taxes? Great. Lend me $10,000. My grandkids will pay you back.
- Nice turkey. That reminds me: Anyone want to guess how much fecal cross-contamination has increased since Congress deregulated the poultry industry?
- If masturbation’s a sin, and that’s how they fertilize those stem-cell blastocysts, aren’t they all going to hell anyway?
- So you support Bush’s conduct of the war? How fortuitous. I just happen to have a blank enlistment contract right here in my pocket.
- No milk for me, thank you. With all the rGBH Monsanto is selling to the dairy industry...well, I won’t go into details at the table. But I’ll just say; I don’t drink pus.
- Mom. Dad. I’m gay. And remember that black-hispanic Jewish Democrat I introduced you to last summer?
Have a happy Thanksgiving! (And don’t forget; the War on Christmas starts Friday!)
DISCLAIMER: This this does NOT (hardly) resemble anyone in MY family. (Hardly.) (And if anyone forwards this to my relatives, I’ll pull an Armando and go sulk.)