Happy Thanksgiving! ,
 ----- Forwarded by Dan J Hyvl/HOU/ECT on 11/17/2000 12:27 PM -----

	Becky Spencer
	11/17/2000 12:18 PM
		 
		 To: Dan J Hyvl/HOU/ECT@ECT, Jenny Helton/HOU/ECT@ect, Pat 
Radford/HOU/ECT@ECT, Mary Ogden/HOU/ECT@ECT, Kimberlee A Bennick/HOU/ECT@ECT, 
Legal Temp 1/HOU/ECT@ECT, Chaundra Woods/HOU/ECT@ECT
		 cc: 
		 Subject: Happy Thanksgiving!

My Dear Thanksgiving Dinner Guests,

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving.  I'm telling
you in advance, so don't act surprised.  Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming,
I've made a few small changes:
Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries.  After a
trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of  flaming
lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.  Once inside, our
guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of
Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make.  Instead, I've gotten
the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn
leaves from the front yard.  The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or
crystal goblets.  If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone
will get a fork.  Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the
plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I
promised.  Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration
hand-crafted from the finest construction paper.  The artist assures me it
is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late.  The children will entertain you while
you wait.  I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I  have
made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims, and the turkey hotline.  Please
remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering
that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.
As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of
tribal drumming.  If the children should mention that I don't own a
recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously
like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them.

They are lying.
We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start
of our feast.  In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method.

We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement.  When the smoke
alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like.


In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate
table.  In a separate room.  Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in
front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers.  This will not be happening at
our dinner.  For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private
ceremony.  I stress "private", meaning:  Do not, under any circumstances,
enter the kitchen to laugh at me.  Do not  send small, unsuspecting children
to check on my progress.  I have an electric knife.  The turkey is unarmed.
It stands to reason that I will eventually win.  When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that
"passing the rolls" is not a football play.  Nor is it a request to bean
your sister in the head with warm tasty bread.  Oh, and one reminder for the
adults:  For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence
of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its  lesser-known
name:  Cheese Sauce.  If a young diner questions you regarding the origins
or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance.

Before I forget, there is one last change.  Instead of offering a choice
between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the
traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small
fingerprints.  You will still have a choice:  take it or leave it.


Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving.  She probably
won't come next year either.    I am thankful.
bettye.langham@juno.com, dorismit@mciworld.com