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Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Thanksgiving and Feathers

Always one of my favorite holidays. Too bad the progs seek to ruin it. We won't let that happen to us. The Diplowife and I will head off to Raleigh for a big Thanksgiving with the three Diplosons--Diplodaughter is in Texas--significant others, grandsons, and carefully chosen friends.  Undoubtedly, politics will provide the main topic of entertainment; none of us wants to watch any NFL nonsense. 

In light of these festivities, my posting will be light for a few days. I, however, leave you with a recounting of a Thanksgiving Day, long, long, long ago, in a place now much different . . . it's a re-post from the past.


Yes, feathers. Not the figurative kind that fill leftoid heads, but the real kind that cover birds. We are going light today. Our topic is feathers and how they nearly produced a civil war in the Diplomad clan, and how echoes of that strife apparently will reverberate on the 4th of July.

As the six regular readers of this blog are painfully aware, during the Reagan years I served for a time at the UN in New York. We loved New York City, even with all its inconveniences especially with two rambunctious boys. Schooling was a problem as the local PS was, well, pretty bad. When two of the vastly overpaid teachers at the school told us that they would never send their own kids there, we decided to yank our boys out and send them--at considerable cost to the Diplomad bottom line--to private schools. One went to a school run by Irish Catholic nuns, who wanted no parental involvement, "Thank you very much, but we know how to do this." The older son went to one run by strangely liberal, yet oddly conservative Jews who wanted lots of parental involvement in the school as long as the parents did what the school wanted. Hey, it's New York. Live with it.

Well, as it does every year, the Thanksgiving holiday rolled around. You must understand we had spent most of our lives overseas. The boys had been born in Spain, and hardly had been in the US. Educated abroad, they--God help me--had grown to love soccer football soccer with both of them becoming (and remaining to this day) rabid fans of Spain's La Furia Roja. Their grip on Americana was a bit weak. Please remember that as this saga proceeds.

Another piece of background you will need. My Spanish wife hates, detests, abhors, loathes, etc, feathers and any creature sporting them. She shows a special wrath for chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese. She cannot stand the thought of fowl on the meal plate. I have seen her blanche and break out into a cold sweat at fancy diplo dinners when served quail, duck, or some other feather-bearing beast. It is not funny; better said, she has no sense of humor about this matter. My efforts to convince her that chicken tastes just like iguana have had no positive effect. Whenever we go to a restaurant, regardless of what she orders, she insists on, ahem, grilling the waiter on whether any foul fowl was involved in the making of her pending meal, "Uh, no ma'am, our salmon is, uh, salmon. It's a fish, not a bird." "Yes, yes, but the rice and the vegetables, were they cooked with chicken?" I am used to it by now.

Thanksgiving Day in New York, 1985. My older son, then about six was in a bad mood. I asked what was wrong, "You have no school today. Mom is making a nice Thanksgiving meal. What's wrong?" He glared at me, "The Pilgrims did not eat paella! They ate turkey!"

Given the Diplowife's aversion to feathery creatures, our overseas Thanksgiving Day meals consisted of seafood paella. My wife had, ahem, implied in some way . . . oh, heck, she flat out told the kids that the Pilgrims ate paella with the Indians. Maybe she was thinking about Cortez and Pizarro, I don't know, but anyhow the kids had gotten into their heads that paella was the meal on Thanksgiving. Now in NY, the older boy had been asked the previous day to make a presentation at school on Thanksgiving. He, of course, reported that the English Pilgrims sat down and shared paella with the Native Americans. This caused a bit of a commotion and, I guess, led to some considerable ridicule, or what the politically correct nanny-staters now would label "bullying."

He was furious with us. He refused to eat paella and demanded a turkey. Even my wife was shocked into submission by the uncompromising fury coming from the tyke. It was Thanksgiving Day. I had to find a turkey in Manhattan! I dashed out of our building on the upper east side. All of the supermarkets were closed. A turkey! My kingdom for a turkey! I wandered the cold, darkling desolate concrete canyons, my despair growing and threatening to overwhelm me. I had let down my kids! The wages of sin, the consequences of falsehoods! God give me a sign that You will allow me to redeem myself . . . Wait! A deli! Still open but about to close! I ran in! Turkey sandwiches! They must have a turkey somewhere! A bizarre negotiation followed in which I finally convinced the suspicious Pakistani owner of the "Jewish" deli to sell me a whole kosher turkey at the price per pound of the sliced sandwich meat. I paid him a fortune--in cash--for a small bird about the size of a Chihuahua, and ran like the Grinch with my turkey under my arm.

My kids had turkey that day; every other Thanksgiving since has featured a big bird on the table. My wife refuses to sit anywhere near it, and has her own separate fish-based meal.

This will become an issue on the Fourth of July. The Thanksgiving paella got moved to Independence Day. The kids, now grown, of course, alas, have started making noises of impending rebellion against paella and in favor of hot dogs and other beast meat. The Diplowife mistrusts hotdogs, even the kosher all-beef ones, as stealth chicken missiles. She does not want anything with the potential of bearing fowl touching our BBQ grill, or near anything else we have cooking. It appears that we might have a split Fourth meal. One side of the family eating chicken wings and hotdogs, and the other with the paella. Now that I think about it, this seems an appropriate metaphor for what is happening to our country.


  1. God bless you this Thanksgiving!

  2. I your wife's defense, Ducks are incredibly evil.

    1. That's just Daffy!
      OW ~~~
      Save me a drumbstick!

  3. "Always one of my favorite holidays." WLA

    Mine too Lew!
    The generations from Near & Far, Past & Present,
    came out to the country backwoods of old Florida
    for a 3 day Turkey-Day Fest err Feast, plus a
    homegrown band played as best they could, folks
    danced, told lies and some got snockered, and then
    chose up sides for, Softball, BADmitten, and initially,
    Touch FootbalL~~~ those were the days my friend~~~
    Sadly, not this year~~~

    Attended My first Zoom
    Irish Wake last night,
    all races, faiths,
    friends & fammily
    were there,
    in New York,
    on the Island.

    My Sister's only child, Jason,
    a legend in Snowboarding i'm told,
    dead at 49 he leaves 2 kids + wife,
    he was a lucky survivor of Tower 2.
    Nobody was drinking the hardstuff,
    laughs were strained, but for a few
    well aimed remarks by the womenfolk,
    targeted at "King Coumo's" 'jewelz'!
    Mario was rolling over, I suspect

    A lot of tears, and a lot of friends,
    shared many memories of their
    goodtimes, and heroic deeds of the man,
    center stage in the satin open box~~~
    the Priest arrived and deliverd a heartwarming ceremony...he
    reminded me of my favorite Jewish friend, like an apparition, then I started thinking about my "Black Irish" Granfather's Wake Story, about how he and his mates had removed the SOD holding a dead fellow down, who had died sitting up--- well when the Priest opened the dearly departed's casket - he sat bolt upright, half the congregation feinted and the other 1/2 either crossed themselves or started praying...! True Story-Sworn to by by T.P. McCormack!~~~'I swear by my Tatoo'!

    In Closing, wishing you all the very best & safe passages for the Holiday, and those to come, be happy and love one another as best you can~~~
    On Watch~~
    Looking forward
    to the Cranberries...

    1. Thank you and bless you Kepha~~~
      Found Zoom has much power to convey
      the Love in the human heart~~~spirit```

  4. Have a good one Diplo.

  5. Reader #7 wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving!

  6. Dang, thought I was Reader #7! Happy and blessed Thanksgiving DiploTribe!

    1. Point of fact, Crystal,
      today, you are indeed Reader #7~~~
      As "SCOTTtheBADGER" made 2 comments!
      The second, of which, tho entertaining,
      was a wee bit daft~~~ :+)
      So, shipmate Crystal, as the self-appointed
      unofficial, Yeoman of the Day, you are hereby
      being "Logged--In" on the The Diplomad 2.0 Blog,
      as the highly esteemed, and Lucky: READER No.7~~~

      As per Captain's "THANKSGIVING", Orders of the Day:

      Go forth, and have a Happy one~~~!
      Signed & Sealed
      On Watch~~~
      Cue Tape-Roll~~~

  7. Reader number #9.

    I have seen some oddities but your wifes' aversion to bird meat is a new one on me. We have more chicken than beef but that is my wife's aversion to anything you ingest that can kill you in a few decades.

    1. my dad had an aversion to all things fowl also. He said it stemmed from his mom killing and cleaning the birds on the kitchen table prior to cooking the same.
      we would eat the bird of choice, he would always have beef or pork.
      Later in life, he came to eat chinese food with some regularity, ( after I married a chinese girl). He particularly loved a dish called wor won ton soup. When I discovered this, I wanted to let him know that all of that white and dark meat he had been slurping down was actually turkey. My mother let me know she would disown me if I did. So he spent the last 25 years of his life eating turkey at least twice a month.

  8. Dip, I am sorry for your family's Thanksgiving conumdrum. My Diplo-wife not only loves fish and seafood, but also loves poultry. Indeed, the Chinese culture wrote the book on poultry, as far as I'm concerned. Even so, a happy Thanksgiving to all. 感恩節快樂! However, we're eating roast beef today. We all agree that turkey comes out too dry--and we're celebrating colonialism (a bad term for tying the world together and spreading foods, culture, ideas, and tech) and the Columbian exchange rather than feeling guilty.

  9. Anonymous November 26, 2020 at 11:18 AM
    Hey OW, providing you make it back this way - yeah Dip's got another post up so ...

    Anyway not having access (or a means to get to) the Sidney Powell lawsuit as filed - well maybe I could if I had time but it is Thanksgiving with family & friends ...

    But here's a pretty good analysis:



    AnonymousNovember 26, 2020 at 3:31 PM
    Thanks again, JK
    Now I can EAT, as soon as I finish reading the comments, now at:
    #30. Along the way I stopped and scooped up #17. for you,
    #17. boron November 26, 2020 7:38 AM
    Thank you very much for posting the clearest unbiased explanation of the Georgia mess that's available on-line for non-lawyers

    Ditto to you, Br'er JK!
    I hear my kitchen crew working on the Mashed potatoes,
    and the cooked 'Bird' was scheduled for touchdown,
    at 3PM shark, i mean sharp!
    Happy Thanksgiving to you, and your Family & Friends!
    Gobble Gobble~~~

  10. Fish?

    Goat" ("low-fat lamb" is how I introduced it here).

    Now that "farmed" Bison has been around for a few decades, there's another "all American" protein option.

    Water-Buffalo? Lean-ish, the fat is marbled though the meat. The rib and eye fillets are sublime; MUST be cooked low and slow for best results. If making sausages with other Water Buffalo cuts, you need to add a bit of "extra" fat, lamb fat works OK.


    1. Sous vide.. the only value that's come from the French since Charles the Hammer.

      - reader #1482

    2. Sacre bleu '82~~~
      ... ees thees wat they wer doin sans mask
      o're 'a the dirty French Laundry~~~

      Surely 'Martel was a beast, ask any Mooselm, The gift au monde de Charles V, his Iron Hand was concealed in a Velvet Glove, whilst his wisdom delivered in tongues, his ses sujets comprennent!

      "I speak Spanish to God, Italian to women, French to men, and German to my horse...! Charles 5~~~
      On Watch~~~
      Who knows what he said to his Sous Chef~~~

      "...more intense than it is. The name conjures thoughts of scientists, draped in white lab coats or disgraced cooking competition show contestants, cowering in front of disappointed judges. Is it science-y? Sure it is. And do professional chefs use them for impressive, perfectly-cooked proteins? Yup. But what is sous vide, really?"


  11. Ok, am I #10? Happy Thanksgiving to the diplotribe!

    1. Okay,'Z'67!
      And why not # 10?
      Now who's going to
      be LUCKY # 13 ?!
      P.s. Hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving

    2. No more than ten readers allowed due to Covid restrictions.

  12. Happy Thanksgiving Dip, from possibly your 11th or 12th regular reader :-). Thankful for your eclectic stream of posts, insights and general subversion.

    I'd totally get behind paella as a sub for turkey, for what it's worth.

    1. No, call yourself 3rd. Because some "Karen" will call the cops on all 20 of us..... 😊

    2. ...some "Karen" will call the cops on all 20 of us..... ��

      Aw jeez Z, an I forgot to wear my Community Face Mask, infused w/CopperZinergy! I think I'll duck into Hopper's place, she's got a familiar face, and ah l@^@ks kinda cute, in that Dress Blues Rig n' all~~~~
      "Oh you'll never be blue in a blue uniform"~~~
      On Watch~~~ what a party~~~

    3. RE: She in Dress Blues, formally known as,
      Grace Murray Hopper, USN, Ret.

      "At the time of her retirement, she was the oldest active-duty commissioned officer in the United States Navy (79 years, eight months and five days), and had her retirement ceremony aboard the oldest commissioned ship in the United States Navy (188 years, nine months and 23 days).

      Sometimes one never forgets a face,
      especially one so unforgettable and
      as accomplished as she!

      On Watch~~~

    Daniel Greenfield November 26, 2020

    "Good emerges in response to evil. We need our enemies to remind us of who we are and what we can do when our backs are against the wall. We need evil to remind us of the good that we are capable of. As a whetstone sharpens a sword, so evil sharpens us into a weapon against it. It makes us morally stronger and teaches us the stark truths that we cannot take refuge from evil; we must confront it."

    Whilst The "Sultan" reminds us of the value of our enemies on the Left, I'd rather NOT wait till the hereafter to 'PIPE' All the 'Rats
    What say you Saint Pat~~~
    On Watch~~~
    NYPD~~Snake n'Rat catchers

  14. " A bizarre negotiation followed in which I finally convinced the suspicious Pakistani owner of the "Jewish" deli to sell me a whole kosher turkey at the price per pound of the sliced sandwich meat. I paid him a fortune--in cash--for a small bird about the size of a Chihuahua, and ran like the Grinch with my turkey under my arm."

    Pakistani-American relations summed up in a single transaction.

  15. Concur Anon!
    A Win Win Situ!
    On Watch~~~
    "Let's Roll"

  16. LOL: "stealth chicken missiles"