From the Vineyard Gazette edition of Nov. 20, 1992 by Louise Aldrich Bugbee:

They say tradition holds civilization together. Never been sure who the “they” in “they say” are. In most things I’m not a stickler for accuracy and formality, but in this matter I’m inclined to be officious and insist, “Names, addresses, social security numbers. Can’t accept unidentified individuals.”

It is probably true that civilization is built on tradition. Even if it isn’t, traditions are nice, sweet and sentimental. People like them. They also use them as excuses for doing things that they can’t think of any logical reason for doing.

Tradition — “We’ve always done it this way” — can also be a sprag in the wheels of progress. Not that I’m all that fond of progress. In some cases progress has set the human race back decades, if not centuries.

At the moment I’m thinking of Thanksgiving, and Christmas soon to come. Our family had its tradition as well as any other, but I’m very happy to depart from them. Two days before a holiday we killed and cleaned the bird. Be it turkey, goose or chicken, the smell of scalded and singed feathers and the innards taken out of the space where the stuffing is to go is something I can do without for the rest of my life.

I’m willing enough, but not quite eager, to do without peeling the squash, pumpkins, onions, etc.

A friend recently said, “But you want to do that. All that work is a way of showing how much you love your family.” Could be, but if I have to exhaust myself to the point of grouchiness to prove to my family I love them, I fear I’ll take the easy way out and get a new family. We had to do it in the old days and I was a lot younger then. Glad I had those years (except for dressing the fowl) but I had them. About that part of tradition I firmly say “I’ve had it.” I do rather like the fruit cake, cookie and candy tradition that flourished in my family. Fruit cakes were made months ahead of the season and I did enjoy sampling the ingredients. Traditions can be hard on marriages, too. Two of my best friends were arguing about Thanksgiving traditions. One said it just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving if she didn’t serve creamed onions and two kinds of squash, The other favored cauliflower and sweet potatoes. I stayed out of the argument, since I’m trying to shake the influence of tradition, but I know that on Thanksgiving one has mashed turnip and carrots.

Marriages get in trouble when a “two-kind-of-squash” woman marries a “creamed onion and sweet potato” man. Come to think of it, I may have discovered the reason we all eat too much, suffer and put on weight. Two family traditions clashing and being solved by combination.

Well, not me. I’m too smart to be trapped by tradition. I could eat a peanut butter sandwich on Thanksgiving and be happy and thankful (I know this because I’ve done it). So I can feel smug and superior about it all. Almost. In our family we had “good dishes” used only for company dinners and on holidays. The plates and cups were extra large and they all had a gold rim around them (real gold I found out when I put one in the microwave recently). For two or three generations we used the “good” dishes for holidays.

These dishes are on the top shelf, over the refrigerator and one must climb on a chair to reach them. I was feeling a little wobbly on Thanksgiving and hoped the girl who sat at the stove cooking the dinner would offer to make the climb. “Use the flowered ones. You can reach them easily,” she said.

Tradition gripped me. I was tempted to say “We can’t. It’s a holiday. We can’t eat Thanksgiving dinner on THOSE dishes, not the ones we use every day.” I didn’t say it and everyone made out just fine eating from the “everyday” dishes. That’s what gave me the idea of this tirade about tradition.

Next comes Christmas and the “show the family you love them by spending your last dollar and your credit card limit buying presents for them.” (Also help the President pull the country out of the depression — pardon me, that should have been recession.) Another tradition is to send Christmas cards to everyone who sent you one last year, and decorate everything in sight. I like all of this, more or less.

Compiled by Hilary Wall
library@mvgazette.com