Alfredo Rodriguez, Mexican
Everything Was Going Great at the Honeycutt’s Thanksgiving Until They Realized They Only Had Six Plates and Two Forks For 15 People, 2014
Oil on linen
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Info about this artist (born in 1954) can be found here (can be read in full for free on Fridays). He currently has no Wikipedia page.
/// The Depression years were unforgiving,
but big households could make life worth living.
“When eatin’ with kin, ya’
love rural Virginia,”
John-Boy said on a Walton’s Thanksgiving.
/// Liv tried hard, but she had little luck in
making duck with a small chicken stuck in.
Here’s what Liv overlooked:
The birds must be uncooked,
when you “nest” ‘em to make a turducken.
/// All the Waltons have gathered in place.
A huge smile lights up everyone’s face.
With one prayer to complete
before family can eat,
Mary-Ellen passed gas during Grace.
/// We don’t all do Thanksgiving the same.
On a farm it’s a whole different game.
Hens and turkeys they braised
came from chicks they had raised,
and each bird had been given a name.
/// From large families come many delights,
but they also can give rise to fights.
There’s a rule they all had:
“Never go to sleep mad.”
(It took hours to say their “good nights.”)
/// For Gramps, having no fork wasn’t new.
He could always with fingers make do.
But one plate Gramps will need
for the meal to succeed.
It’s his upper. (He needs it to chew.)
/// Grandpa can’t chew things tougher than curds.
He is toothless and cannot form words
without lisping. He said,
“Thupper thoon or I’m dead.”
So they fed him just like baby birds.
/// Here’s the part that Rodriguez won’t draw:
Grandpa leans back and opens his jaw.
Kin with strong teeth then chewed
and spit out Grandpa’s food
down his throat, now a cavernous maw.
(It’s the strangest thing I ever saw!)
/// In the foreground, their table is set
by an unsmiling, dusky brunette.
Scowling man in the back;
swarthy skin, beard of black.
Those between— pale as people can get.
/// Five sweet girls seen by candlelight’s glints,
share the very same face and blonde tints.
Some wear hats, some have braids.
Could these lovely young maids
be the world-famous Gunderson quints?
/// Somethings creepy here; they seem too “nice.”
Grinning blondes who show no signs of vice.
Well, the youngest child born
will ensure that the corn
will grow tall. (After her sacrifice.)
/// “It’s now legal,” they smilingly joked.
Since the law passed they no longer toked.
They got high now (incredible!)
by ingesting an edible,
and only the turkey got smoked.
Sixteen souls silently sup, sharing some special seasonal sustenance. Spectacular spread! Seven sit; several stand. Silver-shocked septuagenarian supervises slyly. Sure, some somber servers scowl. Still, snowy-skinned supermajority scarfs salty snacks, sipping sour sangria, sincerely showing shiny, sparkling, sunny smiles. Subsequently— siestas.
/// For most paintings we’ve got 24
hours to come up with comments before
we move on to the next,
but, on Fridays there’s ext-
-ra time. (This time, we’d several days more.)
/// From long practice, a wise writer learns,
and for time to write, he or she yearns.
But it’s time to move on
when new ideas are gone.
It’s the law of diminished returns.