Our friend Andrea slept over the night before Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, I did not get to hang because I had to stay late and close the restaurant. In the morning, the three of us watched the parade on the computer. It was a bunch of Midwestern marching bands in subzero temperatures. Thin crowds on State Street in a chill unsafe for children. The best part was the finale, Santa and his helpers dancing to “What did the fox say?” I thought it was terrific but some older viewers emailed in to complain the song was holiday enough, and that the balloons were deflated, which to me added character.
Chef Andres gave me a quart of the richest turkey carcass gravy, Michelin star quality, and we baked biscuits from Bang Bang pie and dipped them in the savory stuff. Next up was the dog show, live broadcast from tape. I briefly had a video connection to a car on Cape Cod containing Kate, Peter and Aunty: I saw their dog, they saw my cat, on their screen I broadcast my computer screen showing a pre-taped live broadcast of an obese man walking his tiny thing in the toy category. It was a great start to the holiday.