Allow me to have a word or two in your shell-like ears. I am having a problem with this whole Thanksgiving business. Not the ideal of giving thanks – I do that often, sometimes many times a day – but the actual day of it.

Allow me to have a word or two in your shell-like ears. I am having a problem with this whole Thanksgiving business. Not the ideal of giving thanks – I do that often, sometimes many times a day – but the actual day of it.

I’ve done some research, as that’s what great writers like Shakespeare, and Chaucer, and Minerva Zilch from East Lancashire do, and I’ve come up with a bit of a trend which I find somewhat unsettling.

As you all know, and are probably still a-groan with extended turkey filled tummies, Thanksgiving occurs on the last Thursday of November in the U.S.

I always knew there was a Thanksgiving in Canada, but their day is somewhat advanced of us in that it occurs in October, no doubt to give the folks a gathering day before the cruel Canadian snows really set in.

But did you know there is a Thanksgiving Day in the Netherlands? Yes indeed, the Dutch felt it was such a good show by the Americans honoring the pilgrims, they thought they’d do the same, even down to the same day as us.

And on it goes. Liberia’s Thanksgiving is the first Thursday in November. Even teeny tiny Norfolk Island – a territory of Australia – has one on the last Wednesday of November. The tradition was apparently introduced by American whalers, and the Aussies, being forward thinkers, realized that the last Wednesday in November over there, is the same as the last Thursday in November here.

So the U.S., Holland and a wee part of Australia all share the same day.

One other Thanksgiving Day I found was in Grenada. They, naturally, don’t give thanks for pilgrims and ever so helpful natives. They actually celebrate the same day every year – Oct. 25 to be precise – commemorating the anniversary of the U.S. invasion of their nation in 1983.

Now have you spotted the cause of my unease? None of these days falls on a day which is remotely useful to anyone. Thursdays? Wednesdays? Hello? The Canadians vaguely got it right by at least having their day the day after a weekend, but even then the weekend prior to that Monday would be spent in a frantic whirl of house decorations and meal preparations, and so the Thanksgiving revelers would still have to turn up to work, stuffed to the gills with good food, lots of football, and no doubt the odd tiniest bit of a hangover.

What we need to have is a tea party movement of our own, those of you who think like me. What we should have is the last Thursday of November off to prepare for the feast, have the feast on the last Friday of November, and then have the whole weekend to recover and/or hit the sales.

This is not an activity I am ever likely to participate in voluntarily. I know this to be a fact, as I have never been one to enjoy shopping anyway, and the thought of having to cope with a crowd in twenty degrees some hours before the store doors even think of opening fills me with a dose of the screaming abjabs.

Top that off with the panic-rush of humanity surging into the store en masse, all grabbing for wondrous deals and bargains just so they can say they got their fridge for a buck ninety, or their TV for free with the proviso that they trample either a small child or several grannies on the way.

I know exactly what I’d be like in those circumstances. I would be one of those incredibly irritating shoppers we all encounter. I would know what I wanted to purchase outside the store, but the minute the crush swelled me through the doors, a little like an extruded sausage, I would stand just inside the entrance, overwhelmed by it all, and would be wondering to myself what on earth I had come here for.

You can find those shoppers at any grocery store at any time of the day. Pushing past you to get a cart, they stride purposefully in through the automatic doors and come to a grinding halt, almost seeming quite surprised to have found themselves on the inside of a store at all. You meanwhile, full of grit and resolve, know exactly what you want and where it is to the exactitude of a micron, give or take a couple of boxes of cereal.

If the government was sincere in its desire to give the economy a good shove with a stern talk telling it to get out there and grow, the government would heed my tea party threats.

Give us the last Thursday off to prepare for the tired, poor and huddled masses – also known as “the family” – arriving on Friday. There’s a good little prod to the economy in itself – all that produce purchasing has to up the GNP for a minute, doesn’t it?

Then give us the Friday off to polish off all the goodies, then to lay blob-like on the sofa all afternoon watching football. Again, we’ll be helping the economy as we’ll be absorbing Black Saturday sales commercials like ravenous sea sponges.

Then we’ll really give the economy a good kick start all weekend as we throng and spend together.

Such a good idea, simple, straightforward with everyone winning.

Ah me, t’is good to dream. I suppose I am thankful though. There were only five of us on the roads going to work Friday morning.