Thanksgiving Sensory Overload

Youthful exuberance is quite something. It’s too bad it doesn’t last a lifetime. But if it did, it wouldn’t be called youthful exuberance, now, would it? That’s my little segue into Thanksgiving 2021. Once upon a time, my father escorted my younger brother and I on a Thanksgiving morning walk into a private neighborhood enclave called Fieldston. It was only a half-mile or so from home, but from my eight-year-old perspective, it seemed far, far away—another world altogether.

Actually, Fieldston was—another world altogether—with its wending, hilly, tree-lined streets. There aren’t many Bronx neighborhoods where manicured mansions are the rule. The place was only a stone’s throw away from Kingsbridge—where I called home—with its pre-war, walk-up apartment buildings and modest private homes. Manhattan College is in Fieldston—on its southeast periphery—which is where I attended college. I walked to school, and it didn’t seem as far away as it did on my earlier stroll with my father. I don’t exactly know why that particular Thanksgiving morning moment has left such a lasting impression on me. I think, maybe, it was its sensory overload: the crisp autumn feel, lots of fallen leaves on the ground, and the aroma of burning logs wafting in the chilly air. If you live in a mansion, you’ve got to have a working fireplace and the logs certainly must crackle on the fire on Thanksgiving Day. Throw in the anticipation of Thanksgiving dinner, a few days off from school, and Christmas right around the corner, and what more could a kid ask for?

Fast forward fifty years and the many Thanksgivings gone by—and here I am. Yesterday, I more-or-less retraced my steps from a year ago. I ventured into Manhattan and made a beeline to Radio City Music Hall and then Rockefeller Center. On November 21, 2020, Radio City was shuttered—no Christmas show and no Rockettes for the first time since 1933. What a difference a year makes. The Christmas Spectacular has been up and running for two weeks now. And, as it was last year at Rockefeller Center, the Christmas tree was being decorated behind scaffolding. However, the big difference in 2021 was that ice skaters were back on the ice rink below it. And when the famous tree is officially lit in a couple of weeks, visitors won’t need time-monitored passes to approach it.

Experiencing New York City in the pre-vaccine COVID-19 era was, I must say, memorable if nothing else. It was surreal ambling around town then, something akin to the Twilight Zone episode “Where Is Everybody?” and I was Earl Holliman. I’m pleased the crowds are back and that there is some semblance of normalcy in the ether. But there was something appealing about the quietude. Having fewer folks to plow through on the city sidewalks, not-too-busy sidewalks was nice while it lasted.

Yes, it’s beginning to look a lot like Thanksgiving with the Rockefeller Center tree hidden behind scaffolding. Christmas decorations, though, are appearing in greater numbers nowadays in the month of November. Granted, folks have been getting a festive jump on things for years, but the pandemic has accelerated the movement. And why not? The unwritten rule when I was growing up: No outdoor holiday decorating before December 15th. That’s gone by the boards and I’m not complaining. Stringing up outdoor lights and other décor is a time-consuming process. My philosophy has long been that—for my troubles—I want the whole shebang up for a month at the very least.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)