vicodincrutch | 129 Diagnosis

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129 Diagnosis

video;

[Blip! On goes the network device. Have an unflattering up angle at the bristly chin of House.]

Let's be real. It's on your calender. And for at least eleven months out of the year you don't think about how warm and fuzzy you are, how far you'll travel or even the prayer you're going to say. People say Thanksgiving and you think about [the network device is now hovering before a plate that's pretty much a small buffet] this.

[Closer! Over the mountain of mashed potatoes and it's lava flow of gravy. He even turns the plate on the counter top. There are voices coming from another room indistinct, so yeah he is taking time to pull away and do this.]

Do you see this? Four days. Four days of this. No regrets.

[Behold the glory of green bean casserole. Beside it of course stuffing. Turkey slices, light and dark. Oops. Too close the screen fogs over. House flips it back around to rub it off on his t-shirt.]

People pay extra for a channel of this. Hours and hours. You get this for free. You're welcome.

[One last look then back to that wrinkled face.]

As I was saying... Thanksgiving should be renamed. That's not how people spend it. It's not how they remember it. Just a day for thankfulness? [Scrunched up thoughtful face as if he's listening for a response. Wait. Is that a veiled positive sentiment? The moment has passed!] Whatever. Day of gluttony. I'm not sorry.

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[Oh no no. It's too late. You said it. He's latched on. He's crept up to the doorway and is now leaning there, arms crossed as he peers at you with an arched brow.]

I'm sorry, what was that you said there? "Just a day?"

Ah schead-- [mouth full here, Wilson. He'll try and chew faster for you. You know the Heimlich right?] I said a lot of things.

[To the fridge to pour a glass of milk to compliment the dish.]

But I guess that was in the mix. Was it the phrase of the day? You're supposed to scream real loud.

You know I left my talking chair in Jersey. It just wouldn't be the same.

[Maybe he's starting to smirk a little.]

But that made it sound almost as if you were defending the meaning behind Thanksgiving.

I sure was.

[He uses his fork like a magic wand to make a flourish over the plate he's holding.]

It's eating. People need to fess up.

[Now he is smirking, tilting his head slightly as the brow furrows a bit deeper.]

And, of course, you're not criticizing the fact that eating is essentially the meaning for most people.

[Another small shovel--some call it a fork--full of goodness. He dramatically chews...meaning that he's giving some thought to what you're saying there Wilson.]

I'm criticizing the fact that people pretend that it isn't about food at all. Food is fullness, health. Food. Good.

[Complete with a grunt. Gulp, gulp of his milk and now he's putting it back. On the door. All the love in the world, good doctor.]

Yes. Food good, indeed.

[He gives a frown, equal parts annoyed and amused, and goes to the refrigerator, picks up the milk and puts it on the shelf without saying anything about it. Now that he's in the kitchen properly, though, he might as well grab more leftovers himself.]

I don't think anyone would ever try tell you that it isn't about food at all. But there are those who do still find meaning in the basic concept of gratitude, and who happen to enjoy the company as much as the food.

[And with a conceding tilt of his head and a glance over his shoulder.]

I'll give you that they're not likely to be the same people who concocted the turducken, but...