If you are one of the three regular readers I have you are more than aware that my Thanksgiving pasts are less traditional and more nomadic. In fact I can't recall the last time I emotionally binged on pumpkin pie at the same place two years in a row. I have rightfully declared my Thanksgiving tradition being 'no tradition'. And I stand by that.
Almost three years ago I found myself standing in the elevator lobby of my apartment building trying to convince myself that it was okay for a middle aged gay man of no sports interest to attend the building sponsored Super Bowl Party. In the end the maternal guilt of my mother whispered in my ear and my 2 hours at that party were the catalyst for three years of relationship building leading to this year's Friendsgiving.
This Monday before Thanksgiving I will sit down with nearly 30 people for Friendsgiving. None of them are blood related. But almost all of them are family now.
We are 30 strong and most of us transplants to North Carolina. From as far south as Johannesburg, to the outskirts of The British Isles, as far west as the Alaskan Final Frontier, and as close as the BBQ capital of the world. Between California and New York we have most states covered. We are restauranteurs, lawyers, small business owners, artists, doctors, creatives, singers, craftsman, academics, and mostly all can be called smartasses. But despite our varied backgrounds we manage to not totally piss each other off on a regular basis. Perfect grounds for any dinner party.
There is a meme going around that perfectly sums up this event. It roughly says something about how odd it is that as humans we just randomly meet strangers and then just start hanging out.
So naturally I trusted no one else with desserts. I will be bringing a couple pumpkin pies and a cheesecake.