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# New traditions for a new house
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/new-traditions-for-a-new-house/
- Published: 2007-11-22T16:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-25T01:16:47.000Z
- Author: Guest Author
- Tags: Opinion, Santa Monica, #archive-import

TODAY MARKS THE FIRST TIME IN 34 years that my family isn’t celebrating Thanksgiving at my parents’ house.

OK, that’s not technically true. First, we actually used to spend the holiday at my great aunt Evelyn and uncle Buddy’s home on Long Island years ago. (I’m pretty sure that ended when Aunt Evelyn got tired of cooking for 25 people, and my dad got sick of sitting on the Long Island Expressway in bumper-to-bumper traffic for three-quarters of the day, while I whined at him to turn off the football games broadcast on annoyingly fuzzy AM stations.) Second, technically, we are celebrating Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. It’s just that we’re at their new house — which is, technically, eight-tenths of a mile from their old house.

But still. In July, my parents moved from the house they had lived in since I was born. I thought I had resolved my feelings (denial, rejection, abandonment, loss). But apparently, my issues live on.

Regardless, I’ve decided to get into the holiday spirit by channeling my negative emotions into something more productive. Instead of sulking, I’ve proposed three new traditions for how my family should celebrate Thanksgiving today. You know, to ensure a smooth transition from the old house to the new house. 1) I GET ALL THE DARK MEAT My grandpa Moe used to like dark turkey meat, but he passed away in 1984\. That left me as the sole person at the holiday — besides my uncle Herbert — who prefers the dark meat.Fortunately,Uncle Herbert is thinner than a twig and fills up after eating half an olive. Plus, he and my aunt Anita became winter Florida residents several years ago, leaving me with pretty much no competition.

Unfortunately, that all changed when my sister, Allison, married Kevin in 1997\. Kevin likes dark meat. Then, my cousin, Robin, had to go and marry Dave in 2005, and he likes the dark meat, too.

I’m now officially sick of fighting for the dark meat. Kevin and Dave can either wait and see what’s left when I’m done with the bird, or they can pour some gravy on the white meat and pretend it’s tan. It doesn’t matter much to me what they choose: I have between 24 and 32 years of seniority over them in the family. There will be no sharing. 2) ON SECOND THOUGHT, LET’S SKIP THE TURKEY ALTOGETHER One of my favorite traditions has been waking up on Thanksgiving morning to the smell of the roasting turkey in the oven. But apparently, that tradition is now moot. My aunt Diane is making the turkey today.

No offense to Aunt Diane, who’s a wonderful cook and an even better person, but since my mom’s not making the turkey, why bother having it at all? Why not declare a new meal theme altogether? Like, say, Italian. My mom worked meatballs onto the Thanksgiving menu about a decade ago. (Admittedly, not the most obvious side dish for a Jewish family celebrating the pilgrims, but it works for us.) So, I say let’s scrap the turkey and continue with the Italian theme and serve chicken parmesan. And maybe some sausage and a little antipasti.

And while we’re at it, let’s dump the pies at dessert. As far as I’m concerned, if it’s not chocolate,it’s not worth it.Besides,is there really anyone delusional enough to believe that just because the pie is filled with apple or pumpkin that it’s healthier than, say, a brownie? Please. 3) I AIN’T CLEARING NOTHING Then there’s the whole clearing the table thing. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been the one consistent table-clearer. Sure, my sister and cousin help, but now, between them, they have, like, a dozen kids, leaving them with the perfect “I-have-to-go-change-the-baby”excuse. But not today. I’d like someone to clear my plate. The kids at dinner will range in age from 6 months to 8 years old. As far as I’m concerned, though, you’re never too young to begin clearing. Give the 5-year-old a Radio Flyer wagon to wheel the glasses over to the dishwasher.

However the kids want to divvy up the work is fine with me. I’ll be waiting in the den for someone to call me back to the table for dessert.And if that dessert just happens to be a chocolate layer cake, I’ll know the transition to the new house will have been a successful one.

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on November 22, 2007.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/112207.pdf?ref=smdp.com)