Attitude Of Gratitude:The White House Turkey Files

Following a so-called 60 year tradition, He Who Pretends To Lead Our Country pardoned the White House turkey today. Since I am bored (and boring), I decided to investigate this strange ceremony and share the gathered information with all of you, so you can have something interesting to discuss when you are sitting next to your 2nd-cousin's-3rd-cousin-once-removed at the family Thanksgiving extravaganza and have an item of conversation with which to break the awkward silence. You're welcome.

There is an urban legend that Harry Truman started the tradition by pardoning a turkey back in 1947, although the Truman Library (here in Kansas City, btw) says it never happened. Which I believe since I've lived in the Midwest long enough to know that any true prairie boy will never turn away meat in any form. Green vegetables are a different story, although I've never once heard of a president pardoning broccoli or brussels sprouts.

So this year's lucky SOB (although I suppose SOT is more appropriate) gets to go live the rest of his life in Disney World with a male companion instead of being stuffed and roasted. This leads me to wonder, somewhere in that little turkey heart, does he feel a pang of gratitude towards Mr. Bush? Does his tiny turkey brain comprehend what he has escaped? Is a turkey capable of showing thanks? I believe the answer is yes, as evidenced by these photos:

Mr. Bush: "By the powers vested in me, I hereby pardon you from the roasting pan."

Mr. Turkey: "Thank you so much. How can I ever repay you? And is that a mini ear of corn in your pocket or are you just happy to pardon me?"

Jerry Falwell: "(Sounds of rolling in grave)"

The pardon is revoked. Jerry stops rolling.

Seriously, I did change the order of the pictures around. The turkey was not actually electrocuted. But for his transgression, he suffered a worse fate: he was banished to Disneyworld to live out the rest of his life...

Grand Marshall of Thursday's parade

Not as cool as the pope-mobile

After the parade, Mr. Turkey and his companion will retire to the Disney concentration camp (aka "Mickey's Country House"). If they're lucky, they'll last a day at the most. That roasting pan's not looking so bad after all. Although the wrong turkeys were sent to the Mouse House.

Thank you for indulging me in my departure from knitting content. I always feel so much better after a good snark. Now you can get back to stuffing your tofurkey.