Holiday traditions are unique to each family

The holidays are all about gathering amongst family and friends and sharing traditions. So with Thanksgiving around the corner, we have our most treasured, handed down from generation to generation tradition, the Butterball Turkey hot line. It’s open 24/7.

Mr. Salmonella is the name of the unwanted guest. Growing up in our family, it was always my aunt’s oyster stuffing. I seemed to remember the clink of an ashtray when they pulled the stuffing out of the turkey. So famous was my aunt’s recipe that some countries have tried to negotiate for it to use as a weapon. Once that stuffing hit the gastrointestinal tract, you could gather at your nearest walk-in clinic. It’s easier to access than ObamaCare.

Oh sure, we think of the old stand-by tradition as “Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go…” There is no river and there are no woods. If she hasn’t taken off in her camper for the Nautical Sea Star Fish Pines Phase 157 of Florida, a gated community two feet above a swamp in the Everglades, then it is over the wrong GPS-directed bridge, through potholes the size of linebackers in the NFL and being pulled over for an expired EZ Pass.

Traveling this holiday season is predicted to be worse than a gigantic cattle drive gone amok, after the lead bull spots a vamp-like female in heat. Especially crowded will be the airports. Many travelers are concerned about their safety with all the recent events in the news.

But you don’t have to fly to head south to visit the grandparents. Driving is still an option. The one trip I took by car was very eye-opening, especially since I had never been south of Ellendale before, at least by vehicle where I could enjoy all the scenery, history and colorful local population.

At some point, driving through the Carolinas, I passed miles of cotton fields located on either side of the highway. The amazing thing is that it looked just like cotton. You absolutely want to jump out of the car and start picking it. I learned this is frowned upon by the local sheriff’s department, not because it is illegal, which I’m sure it is, but the officer’s khaki polyester pants stretched across his thighs are so tight, they threaten to pop open like a zit when he has to exit the police vehicle to tell you northerners to move on.

The other observation I noticed as I drove along this scenic route was the outstanding number of gas stations that had only one gas pump. Was this the movie “Deliverance,” or what? With the sleepy southern breezes it’s only natural that you are going to have to look for a gas station attendant. No self service here.

The service is not going to be fast either, mostly because the attendant is usually the sheriff out on patrol in those tight polyester pants and then you are going to have to explain why Delaware is not the capital of New Jersey and where in tarnation is your NRA bumper sticker if you are traveling on an American state highway.

This takes some doing with all the drug dealers and terrorists speeding past your stop. You have to shout to be heard and hold your stomach in and lean toward your car so they can get by what with all the pit bulls and white powder blowing out the windows. But it can be done.

Hey, it’s still a fun trip when you hit that road for Thanksgiving and keep your mind open to meeting new folks, like the lunatic in front of me in line at the local convenience store. He believes he doesn’t have to pay since he really is the pope and just here visiting from the Vatican. Sorry, that was here.

Whichever travel mode you choose this year or whatever direction you head, remember it’s all about the gathering of family and friends and those great traditions. Or as a friend of mine puts it, “I simply walk across the street to the 7-Eleven, buy a frozen pizza and watch the football game.” And so it goes.