by Pete Fasciano, Executive Director 11/30/2025
This year’s ‘gathering of the clan’ had the usual body count – generally, somewhere in the mid-twenties. We cover the gamut from the rugrats to the retired; the oldest occasionally gazing wistfully at the youngest. The eating season is in full swing. Families convene from hither/yon with their traditional holiday specialty dishes. All in, it adds up to a ten-course meal and all must be sampled – and sampled again.
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| another family, their turkey dinner spread |
This year’s bird is a huge beasty beast; the only way I can describe it. Twenty-five pounds. Logistics require that the massive bird be carved in advance rather than artfully presented and carved at the table. We all want to chow down.
Soooo – I suggested that we go with a proxy bird. There was a small butter sculpture of a turkey on the table – head held high; tail feathers in full flair. After the opening solemnities and gratitudes, I announced that Jim, my bro-in-law and our host, would conduct a token turkey carving with the butterbird. A bold plan. Jim would slice off some butterywing or tail feather – or whatever – and spread the butter on a roll.
What could possibly go wrong?
Jim, being a guys’ guy’s guy, was not to be denied his moment. Jimbo brandished his butterknife with ceremony and certainty. He thrust that butterknife with manly authority, going in for a clean kill – right for the neck. However, a small detail. The butterbirdy had just come from the fridge, and was still quite solid. The knife made it half way though the base of the neck. Jim instinctively tried to retract for a second whack at it. But, butter being what it is, stuck to the knife and the bird launched itself off the butter tray and across the table. Shock and awe all around, followed by OMG’s and raucous laughter. Jim then reached out with his knife and stabbed the bird in the back.
Thus, a new tall tale to be embellished and added to the family lore. This is classic. This is Thanksgiving.
(Note to self: When my turn comes, make sure butterbirdy is at room temp.)
And – as always –
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