Comedy Corner

This Thanksgiving I had a revelation. At 16 years of age I can finally say that I know the true meaning of Thanksgiving and why we celebrate the holiday so strongly. Before this past vacation, I thought it was a time to remember the gifts we have been granted throughout our lives and gratefully express our happiness. Not anymore. But in order to show you the true meaning of this amazing holiday, I need to go back millions of billions of years ago to the first Thanksgiving.

The first Thanksgiving took place in 1621 between the Pilgrims and the Cleveland Indians as gratitude towards the Indians for saving the Puritans. Before that, the pilgrims were utterly lost in America; having arrived in the new world with no food, water, or mapquest. The settlers would spend their days aimlessly wandering around the frigid land trying to find land to farm on or wildlife to kill. Had they not been assisted by the natives, the Pilgrims would probably have starved to death. Fortunately, a loving Indian named Poncho came to the Pilgrim’s rescue and taught them how to farm on the poor land and survive New England’s harsh conditions. After a while, the Puritans were prospering in their new world and even had enough time to invent racism.

As recognition towards the Indians (or as they prefer to be called: African Americans), the Pilgrims hosted the first Thanksgiving. The men of the villages went out and killed a wild turkey, brought it home, plucked it of its feathers, marinated it for 6 hours, added spices and flavoring, and then baked it at 450 degrees for three to four hours. During the dinner, both Pilgrims and natives enjoyed delicious dishes such as wild deer, corn, potatoes, and Spaghettios.

Hence was the first Thanksgiving. A time where two different races could come together and share the one thing everyone enjoys: force-feeding one another green beans, stuffing, and squash. However, few people know that right after the Pilgrims enjoyed this tasteful meal, they went out and killed an Indian tribe. Yes, that’s right; they went out and murdered people after Thanksgiving dinner. I know that this seems unheard of and barbaric to most people because after our Thanksgiving we feel that even the slightest movement will result in projectile vomiting. But the Puritans—who apparently had steel stomachs—went out and killed the Native Americans after the first Thanksgiving dinner.

Thanksgiving wasn’t a celebrated holiday until President Abraham Lincoln addressed that the last Thursday in November a “prayerful day of Thanksgiving.” President Lincoln himself enjoyed eating massive quantities of food, and—according to my history book—choked to death on popcorn while sitting in the John Wilkes booth at Ford’s Theater. Many argue that Lincoln’s greatest achievement as President was introducing Thanksgiving to the world, and without him we would have no turkey or anything.

After revisiting the first Thanksgiving ever and how it became a national holiday, we have to reflect upon what we did this past vacation. Most of us had the traditional turkey with cranberry sauce, stuffing, squash, mashed potatoes, etc. and finished the day with football. Like me, you guys probably shared your celebrations with aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. This is one of the few times a year you get to visit your relatives and you all shared stories of stuff that happened between your meetings. Depending on how long you stayed with your relatives, you probably grew tired of your little cousins always wanting to play, your grandmother bringing out embarrassing pictures, and your mother revealing humiliating incidents that recently happened to you. This, my friends, is the true meaning of Thanksgiving. Not the joy and excitement you get from taking that first bite of meat; not the thrill of escaping school to lie around the house all day; and not the bonding you share with your family as you all sit around and talk, but the thanks you have that you don’t live with your relatives.

Let’s face it. You love your family to death, but the idea of living with your cousins is terrifying. They were obviously raised different than you, and therefore feel that it is acceptable to eliminate all types of privacy and confidentiality. Also, since they are younger, you’re not allowed to watch MTV or VH1 around them because of the constant upcoming of the words “bitch,” “slut,” and “go fuck yourself.” But when you silently slip into another room to watch your television shows, they follow you. Why? Because they love you. I understand that they missed me and blah blah blah, but there’s no need to follow at my ankles and beg for my attention; even my dog doesn’t do that.

This thanksgiving I was thankful for the roof over my head, the life I was given, and that I don’t have to live with my cousins. And next year when the turkey is laid on the table and I dig into my first scoop of mashed potatoes, I will remember the troubles our forefathers went to in order to lay the foundation for this country. But for now, I think I’ll just reheat my Spaghettios.

Today is November 18th, 2007. This is probably the most important day in history and—according to scientists—there will not be another November 18th for another 364 days. But not only is today unique because it’s a landmark in history, but it is also my birthday. Oh yeah, you remember now. Don’t pretend like you remembered because I know you forgot. Do you know how I know you forgot? Because I don’t have a Facebook. On Facebook all your friends’ birthdays are laid out in front of you in large letters, eliminating any chance of you forgetting:

Since I do not have a Facebook, I have to alert people of my birthday the old fashioned way like, for example, telling them. This confuses my peers and usually requires them too—God forbid—remember. But that doesn’t matter anymore because today I am officially 16 years old. Finally. You’d never guess how long I’ve waited to become 16—approximately 23 years. And after the extensive and excruciating wait, I can now say that being sixteen years old sucks.

When you think about it, there are only a few major ages you’d like to reach. I was talking to a 22-year-old about this, and she said that when you turn 20, it sucks. At that point, all your older friends are allowed to go into bars and party while you sit in the car and feed the meter. At 21, you and your friends are all allowed to drink all you want, but your partying is interrupted by a call from your obnoxious younger sibling asking you to “hook her up.” Then, you’re buying drinks for minors until they turn 21, and by that time you’re 26 and it’s time to get married. After four years of a nice marriage you think you’ve reached the essential age but then your wife wants a baby to “bring love into her life.” A child ruins three years of your life with non-stop crying, and another seven when you find out your kid has ADHD. By this time you’re in your forties, and your child gets into drugs, causing you to stress for the next five years until he graduates high school. Finally, at the ripe old age of 50 you retire and can finally relax and know that you have reached the perfect age. Then, on your first trip out of the house as a care-free man, you get hit by a truck and die.

Since I am not even close to reaching 20, I have just thought about the age I am now. Also, one of my best friends is turning 17 in less than a month, making her 11 months better than me. And because my triumphant day of 16 becomes shadowed by her 17th birthday, I have compiled a list of the “benefits” of turning the 16 and 17.

At the age of 16 you can . . .
• Drive anywhere you want whenever you want with whomever you want, granted there’s a 21-year-old in the passenger seat, it’s between 6am and 11pm, there’s no one in the car, and you stay on major roads.
• Legally drop out of school.
• Get a job at Burger King for when you drop out of school.
• Call up MTV and have them film your Sweet Sixteen birthday so the entire nation can see how spoiled you are.

At the age of 17 you can . . .
• Drive anyone anywhere at any time. Period.
• Legally go to a rated R movie
• In Australia you’re legally allowed to become an apprentice
• Tease kids who are only 16 and constantly remind them that you’re older than them.

Despite the fact that being 16 will benefit me in no way and the only thing I will receive are constant birthday beatings. But I will receive sixteen birthday beatings; one more than last year. And who knows, next year I might receive one more. All I know is that I’ll never be happy until I’m 50 and dodging traffic.

In history class I’m learning about child labor and how it is the worst thing in the history of the world. Children were brutally put into the work force at ages as young as five to perform hard labor without pay, benefits, or a 401K. Older kids were made to do the tedious tasks that adults deemed dangerous, such as substituting at a middle school. Innocent children who worked in the mines would die very young due to lung problems or even collapses, and because life insurance was unthought-of in that day, dead children were usually unable to work anymore.

Being a young kid for my grade, I truly wish that child labor was still legal. As of this point all my friends have jobs, and because of that have money to spend in the essentials of high school living (drugs, alcohol, condoms, etc.). Since I am only 15, I have nothing to do but sit around and wait while all my friends live the American dream of doing what every sophisticated businessman does: hate his job.

Back in the early 1900’s, kids had an infinite number of jobs opportunities to hate, the majority of which had no age restrictions. Six-year-olds were making cigars, eight-year-olds were running newspaper routes, and toddlers were hired for cleaning sewing machines. And by having shitty jobs that were dangerous and life-threatening, the youth of America was not only able to provide for their family, they also built character. In fact, the main reason these kids tolerated such laborious jobs is because they had nothing better to do than build character. There was no Instant Messaging, text messaging, or internet; kids couldn’t just go to the movies or a rock concert. They lived in hell. Back in the 1900’s, building character was today’s equivalent of snowboarding! The children would wake up at dawn, build character for 9 hours, and then reluctantly go home. And when they weren’t at work and they wanted to have fun, they would basically sit around and so what every other teenager did during that time: play with rocks.

Kids today are spoiled, flawed, and disfigured and a little bit of elbow grease could do them right. Most teenagers—myself included—cannot spend ten minutes without checking their phones, emails, IM buddy list, etc. The thought of having to act responsible enough to hold a steady job is enough to make some teenagers uncontrollably convulse. Because unlike the lame-ass living conditions of the early 1900’s, our lives are filled with many opportunities consisting of and endless selection of reading books, infinite sources of video entertainment, and DDR. And it is because we have to spend our time doing hard labor and missing all the entertaining selections we normally have that we wind up hating our job.

No matter what job you chose you’re going to hate it. There are going to be responsibilities that you don’t want to have (like showing up) and rules that you don’t want to follow (like not killing that obnoxious kid who thinks you’re his best friend despite the fact that you only see him Sunday mornings from 9-12), but a job is a job. And when choosing the proper career, there are a few options you have, especially when you’re just starting off:

1) The Hook Up Job- Your mom’s friend’s sister’s nephew knows a guy who met a lady who called her mother who can get you a job as a cashier at a Taco Bell in Michigan. This job usually has you working at a job people five years older than you aren’t legally allowed to do, but you don’t get in trouble because you’re best friends with the manager. Jealous that your job is better than theirs, your friends never speak to you again and attempt to murder you.

2) Your Brother’s Job- This job is an employment you take because your older brother/sister worked there. Chances are you hate the job as much as they did and manage to become closer siblings by mocking your boss.

3) The Easy Job- You choose this career because it’s convenient for you. Either it’s close to your house; minutes away from your school; or your inability to drive leaves this as your only option. You’re probably still the tool of this job even though you’ve worked there for three years, and chances are you’ll find a new job the second you get your license.

4) The Friendship Job- Probably the most common of all employment options, this is a job you select because your friend’s work there. As opposed to other jobs where you are doing manual labor for minimum wage, this job has you doing manual labor for minimum wage with your friends. The amount of hatred you and your peers share for your boss brings you closer together and the job sucks just a bit less.

So go out! Find your perfect job and earn yourself some money. Working 12 hours a week may be tough, but I’m sure you can do it. And it will all be worth it when you get your paycheck and have enough money to buy whatever you want. As for me, I’ll be playing with my rocks.

This is my halloween costume.  I dare you to do this next year.