The Austin Chronic: A Guide to the Pre-Thanksgiving Dinner Weed-Walk

Historically speaking, Thanksgiving's premise is utter bullshit. I'm sure my fourth-grade teacher wasn't intentionally brainwashing me when she detailed a vision of 17th-century Pilgrims passing the mashed potatoes to native inhabitants, but we'd all eventually learn that such a banquet was an appetizer to centuries of genocide, land theft, broken treaties, and discrimination. Still, it's a top three American holiday for the following three reasons:

1) A big table full of family and friends is a beautiful thing.

2) The harvest of soft, salty comfort food – it's like someone opened a goddamned Luby's in your Aunt Marsha's dining room.

3) Marijuana. "Danksgiving" rivals April 20 as the ultimate stoner holiday.

In the dramatic structure of a typical T-giving plot, hugging grandma, small talk with Uncle Hector over the deviled egg platter, and holding your cousin's new baby is the Exposition; slipping out to get super baked is the Rising Action; dinner is the Climax; and unapologetically blobbing out in a carbohydrate-induced torpor is the Denouement.

Certainly you've seen a recent meme or five about "going for a walk with the cousins" in reference to hitting a joint before the food hits the table. I love that's the cultural parlance we've landed on because going on walks, in general, is a great habit that we should all hold in higher esteem. Walks are poetry: Robert Frost fuckin' loved walks – William Wordsworth, too – and, like many things, it's an activity amplified by the company you're with.

But in this case, the "walk" is merely a semi-plausible excuse to leave the house and get stoned. With American attitudes toward cannabis getting softer than Stove Top stuffing mix, this kind of low-level ruse might not even be necessary at your Turkey Day gathering, but in deference to your 12-year-old niece or super Republican stepgrandpa, such discretion is honorable. Anyway, BEING SNEAKY IS FUN.

The obvious reason to get lifted before Thanksgiving dinner is because you will enjoy the meal more. Scientific research suggests cannabis significantly heightens olfactory senses and triggers hunger – that's why it's prescribed to cancer patients for appetite stimulation. But what I really value about the pre-meal walk is bonding with seldom-seen cousins or even cool uncles and aunts who make it a multigenerational smoke circle.

Here are some do's and don'ts of the Thanksgiving weed-walk.

Do

• Recruit participants. I usually say: "I'm thinking about going for a little walkie-walk. Anybody want to get their appetite up?" before flashing the universal smoking gesture of puffing an invisible joint.

• Hit the Visine before you smoke. It's easier to prevent bloodshot eyes than reduce redness after the fact.

• Be prepared for someone to ask, "How was the walk?" A good way to respond is to take note of something you saw, like, "My, oh my, Aunt Sheila, your neighbor's Great Dane sure takes huge dumps!"

Don't

• Even if it's cold, don't hotbox your cousin's Corolla – you will come in reeking.

• Don't hold up dinner. Slip out when the biscuits go in the oven and return before the can opener touches the cranberry.

• Avoid hitting your brother-in-law's randomass, super indica vape pen – it might sneak up on you. If you mess up and get "awkward high," just find the oldest person at the table and ask them what Thanksgiving was like when they were a kid. Old people have poor vision and senses of smell so they won't know you're high, and the rest of family will think you're a hero for engaging with your decrepit Granduncle Carl.

But the most important thing to remember is, when you get to the table, make it known what you are thankful for. Me? I'm grateful for a happy, healthy, crazy family; for not having to work for "the man"; for the many beautiful, brilliant maniacs I get to play music with; and for living in the Amsterdam of Texas ... oh, and buttermilk pie, which is way better than pumpkin pie.