Ever since I can remember, Thanksgiving always starts with a run. There were even a few “Turkey Trots” through the years, but the most memorable run was on Isla Mujeres where I actually saw a live turkey chained to a grill, awaiting his fate. This Mexican destination was my only international Thanksgiving Day run, but I’ve also done pre-turkey jogs in many states including Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Texas, Oregon, Florida, Louisiana, Hawaii, and South Carolina. 

I’ve celebrated Thanksgiving in many unique ways including a Florida beach-nic, gourmet dinner at Urban Farmer in Portland, a Green Pastures brunch in Austin with the peacocks, Autumn in New Orleans after the French Quarter parade, and Turkey & Tequila with good friends. Then, there was that scary  Thanksgiving afternoon we had to call an ambulance and spent the evening at the Hospital. 

On the lighter side, I’ve spent tropical “Turkey Days” in Maui twice for the basketball Classic, while we once enjoyed an icy one in Bend, Oregon near Mount Bachelor with the dogs stuck in the car. My wife’s brother took us on a boat ride in South Carolina before serving us fresh fish that he prepared for their celebration. His wife, who prefers being called an “out-law” rather than “in-law,” always bakes  the best snickerdoodle cookies.

I’ve sampled a fried turkey in Indiana, helped prepare a bird on our Austin rotisserie for my grandkids, and once grilled one on a Weber while digging a septic tank in Michigan on a muddy, rainy holiday. This year we bought a Heavenly Ham to feed the grandkids, at their request, rather than use our new outdoor kitchen.

Sports have always been a part of Thanksgiving. I remember going to Frankfort, Indiana as a kid to eat with my cousins. The conversation centered around the upcoming Old Oaken Bucket rivalry since there were both Purdue and I.U. grads around the table. The women cooked and the men watched NFL football on TV. In Austin, we attended a Longhorn vs. Aggies game on Thanksgiving night, in Indianapolis we went to several Pacers games, and in Portland it was tickets to the Phil Knight PK Classic. 

I’ve kept a diary over the past 20-plus years, so I know exactly what we’ve done or where we’ve gone every November. Details are sketchy before that time. The home of my wife’s sister in Indianapolis was typically our Thanksgiving Day destination, after often driving their mother from Rochester to join us all. It became more complicated once we moved away from the state. My first Thanksgiving with them, I happened to notice that my place at the table was identified with a hand-made name tag that had been previously used by my wife’s ex-husband. My name was loosely glued over his. I thought it was funny but they were a bit embarrassed. Probably, the saddest Thanksgiving of all was done by Zoom in 2020 when we couldn’t get together due to Covid. As I watch the Macy’s parade, a Turkey Day tradition along with the Alice’s Restaurant music track, the Planes, Trains, and Automobiles movie, and WKRP’s famous Turkey drop promotion, I reflect on and am thankful for all of my Thanksgiving memories!