Seriously: It’s time to reclaim Thanksgiving — we should spike the potatoes

These hashed potatoes have something special in them!

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Collegian | Trin Bonner

Paul Brull, Cannabis Director

Editor’s Note: This is a satire piece from The Collegian’s opinion section. Real names and the events surrounding them may be used in fictitious/semi-fictitious ways. Those who do not read the editor’s notes are subject to being offended.

Thanksgiving is a lovely holiday; we get to spend time with our families and friends, there’s no pressure to give gifts and everyone (hopefully) enjoys good food together.

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Unfortunately, the holiday is often mired with understandably tense conflicts surrounding politics, religion and any other differences between the younger generations and their older counterparts. Pretty much everyone has a story to tell about a crazy uncle, a passive aggressive confrontation with parents or Grandma’s judging glares.

It gets uncomfortable, and instead of celebrating shared time, everyone is painfully reminded why they don’t live together anymore.

Fortunately, dear reader, we at The Collegian cannabis desk have a solution for you: It’s time we start spiking the mashed potatoes.

If everyone was just a bit high on hashed potatoes, the holiday could finally achieve its full potential.

Without cannabis, your problematic family member of choice will take advantage of the one conversation they have with you per year to tell you about how your generation is ruining America. A 5-20 milligram dose of THC, though, will have them too occupied giggling about how their fingers are kind of funny looking.

“Aggressive sativas can be a fun time with friends, but making your dad even more paranoid about his election conspiracy might prove counterproductive to your initial goal. A mellow indica with a light scent profile will take the edge off while remaining easily disguised.”

I present the following hypothetical to demonstrate my point: It’s Thanksgiving Day, and your family gathers around. The family opens a bottle of wine or maybe some beers. Maybe you even turn on the big game — I think that’s what people call it. Everything is vaguely peaceful. No one has talked about “those damn liberals” or “the gay agenda.” Things are good.

Inevitably, though, your slightly-more-vocal-and-liberal sibling remarks on something relatively benign that Uncle Carl disagrees with vocally. The rest of the family tries to smother the flame, but the tension is already building. There will be a fight at the dinner table.

Enter the hashed potatoes. Assuming everyone takes a reasonable amount and tucks in, the high should start hitting around the same time political tensions would otherwise bubble over. Just as the F-slur starts to leave Uncle Carl’s lips, he will be suddenly overtaken by giggles and think to himself, “Wouldn’t it be better to just chill?”

As dinner continues, your chemical companion elevates everyone’s spirits. Your disapproving grandmother even cracks a smile. The inevitable game of Monopoly after dinner turns into a fun socialist romp wherein people realize money doesn’t matter and Monopoly is a terrible board game.

What happens, though, if someone can’t eat the hashed potatoes? Worry not — we have some other ideas too. Why not sauce up the cranberry sauce or add something special to the pumpkin pie? You could even make “baked” turkey, and no one would be the wiser. In fact, they’d probably be delighted because for the last four years, you only brought napkins to the Thanksgiving potluck.

The hashed potatoes — or sauced sauce, high pie or baked turkey — come with ancillary benefits too.

As everyone settles into a comfortable stupor, the munchies start taking hold. Everyone in the family will get seconds, thirds and fourths, enjoying as much food as they want. Somebody might even take some of the suspicious potato salad your great aunt brought, saving everyone the hassle of haggling over who has the responsibility to take that leftover. It’s a win-win all around.

It’s important to be careful about what strain you choose, though. Aggressive sativas can be a fun time with friends, but making your dad even more paranoid about his election conspiracy might prove counterproductive to your initial goal. A mellow indica with a light scent profile will take the edge off while remaining easily disguised.

If anyone asks why they’re feeling funny, just blame the turkey. I hear it has something in it that makes people sleepy.

It’s time we retake Thanksgiving and make it the holiday it can be. Thanksgiving should not be about confronting your family about whatever backward beliefs they happen to hold. It definitely shouldn’t be stressful; it should be a time where you visit your whole family and everyone has an amiable enough time that they forget for a little bit how different they often are.

Reach Paul Brull at cannabis@collegian.com or on Twitter @csucollegian