A Belated Reflection on the Holiday

When one arrives at that moment in one’s life when one is battling the invasion of a fowl army of giant zombie turkeys from outer space, one regrettably finds time for little else.  True, one may take comfort once victory is achieved, being thankful in the knowledge that our galaxy shall likely not face that threat again for perhaps another two or three generations, but the effort can be very draining.  The pilgrims certainly learned the magnitude of this, for in their first winter on the North American Continent certain destruction would have befallen them if not for the valiant, giant zombie turkey-fighting prowess of the noble Squanto on that first Thanksgiving.   

Although one indeed understands that not everyone will have to contend with that fowl menace, each one at one time in one’s life (perhaps even several times) shall undoubtedly face one’s own “fowl army of giant zombie turkeys from outer space,” in a primarily metaphorical sense.  Afterwards, one shall never again look upon “our fine, feathered, friends” in the same way.  In addition, one’s perceptions, one’s very worldview shall forever be colored by the harrowing experience.  One shall take time to ponder, perhaps laugh or weep when reflecting upon the event, for it is impossible to escape from it unscathed.  One shall learn to appreciate the little things in life ... electrons, neutrinos--even tiny, theoretical quarks! ... And one shall learn to take a special zest (and, may it be said, urgency) in consuming one’s turkey leftovers!