Wednesday, November 25th, 2009
Lying around in a tryptophan induced coma is a wonderful way to spend quality time with your loved ones after a Thanksgiving meal. In fact, advertisers encourage it—all the better to have supple meat blocks for soaking in their consumo-Christmas marinade. Instead of blocking out ads this Thanksgiving in fear that they will sublimate my mind into an oblivion, I’m going to watch them, jump on their game, and ultilize this socially acceptable phenomenon of slothing out to my ultimate advantage. In a very chill way of course, I’ve still got to take it easy.
When I “bond” with my dad by limply flipping through TV channels this holiday, I’m going to utilize his highly suggestible state to get some stories. My dad is a first-generation immigrant to the states that went from being a CEO to receiving welfare checks to buying a new home this year. I have a vague idea of how it went down, but he never really opened up. Besides approaching him when his cognition is most tenderized, I’ve got a solid excuse as well: November 27 is StoryCorp’s National Day of Listening (they’re the folks you’ve probably heard on NPR on Fridays, or seen the StoryCorps booth in NYC’s Grand Central Station). The simple call to action? Get stories from our family members to pass down through the generations. We’re encouraged to blog about it, too.
Hopefully, all these factors will finally get my dad to speak out, the stars will align, and we’ll end up with a story that’ll sustain us until next Thanksgiving. Or better still, he’ll start telling stories and be unable to stop. Storytelling, like the best holiday pleasures, can be enriching, enlightening, and, like Mom’s sweet potato pie, totally addictive.