The day before Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorites. There’s something incredibly satisfying about a leisurely half-day at the office followed by a half-filled tumbler of whiskey. More to the point, it is usually accompanied by a half-cocked smirk, which spreads across my face as I surf the news in befuddled amusement at the traffic snarls and airports descending into chaos. Suckers!
This year, however, I am one of those poor schmucks braving the Lincoln Tunnel while preparing my junk to be unceremoniously cupped at Newark airport. Feel free to enjoy a moment of schadenfreude, dear readers.
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