Seriously, can we take the time to enjoy Thanksgiving for what it is? I guess the time we spend with the family and friends we are thankful for is taking too much time away from the money retailers think we should be spending in the stores.

But do Americans really enjoy Thanksgiving for what it truly is?  As we anxiously await the minute when we’re able to shutdown our computers to enjoy the long-awaited Thanksgiving holiday weekend there are plenty of things we should consider before rushing out the door.

Most Americans (and I envy the exceptions) will pile into a car and hit the road to gather with their loved ones somewhere other than the place they currently call “home.” Sure, arriving at grandma’s house or mom and dad’s is great, but during the ride I would expect nothing less than typical road rage at its finest -  you will be cut-off, honked, high-beamed and called every name in the book. Another thing to put on my list of “Things To Be Thankful For” this year.

And that’s just getting onto the highway. When we finally reach our destination, we’ll unload and dump all of the groceries off to the cooks of the household (definitely not me) who will begin frantically preparing dish after dish that will end up half-eaten and still in the fridge come New Year’s day (I mean, not really, but you get my point).

We go to sleep excited for a day of balloons floating down the streets of New York City, prancing dogs, football and more football, eating until we have to unbutton our pants and falling asleep on the couch because we just can’t move anywhere else. Don’t get me wrong, I’m the first to take part in all of these Thanksgiving traditions, but what real value makes this day so much more different or important than any other Saturday or Sunday throughout the year that justifies such gluttonous behavior?

As we all learned in school as young lads and lasses, it was a joyous celebration between Pilgrims and Indians. The Indians welcomed the Pilgrims, taught them how to harvest and gave them land to practice religion in freedom. John Smith and Pocahontas became one in the New World.

Although it wasn’t the rainbows and butterflies story that was painted for us as children, who really cares? Exactly. So, let’s eat.

Throw on the premature Christmas music that floods the airwaves. Watch sweaty men wrestle in a field of rubber grass. Stuff your face and drink until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. And then, if you’re tough enough, set your alarm for 3 a.m., lace up the old sneakers and race for that last 32″ LCD bargain at Walmart.

Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll see you out there on the road — I’ll be the one you flip the bird to, no pun intended.