More Than a Meal

It may have been my favorite Thanksgiving day ever, mainly because it strayed from the norm and I got to enjoy so much more than just the big meal.

But of course the big meal is important and I was having a half dozen people over, so I made the stuffing and got the bird in the oven and then headed to the VMFA with friends for an afternoon of "Corot to Cezanne: French Drawings from the Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon."

With 75 works showing, there was plenty to see by mostly familiar names and, in most cases, stylistically quite similar to each artist's more developed or painterly works.

The pleasure was in getting up close and personal with each gem.

Vuillard's emphasis on the patterning of walls was just as striking in these pieces as in his oils and Raoul Dufy's trademark washes of color just as identifiable.

The largest work, Picasso's "Jester on Horseback" was done in oil on composition board, but still conveyed a strong sense of line.

Van Gogh's two pieces showed the undeniable influence of Japanese woodcuts and Degas' drawings were, not surprisingly, of jockeys and horses.

I was a bit surprised at the number of people besides us who'd decided to gallery walk on a Thanksgiving afternoon.

One woman walked up to a security person and said, "Thank you for being here so we could see art on this holiday."

That very thought had occurred to me but I hadn't vocalized it.

After such a satisfying afternoon, it was a pleasure to come home to the smell of a roasting turkey and await my additional guests.

I enlisted a couple of friends to peel potatoes and the Deer Run Farm carrots I'd gotten at the Renegade Byrd House Market (along with their spaghetti squash and beans) and before long, the rest of the group had arrived.

I read once that the problem with having Thanksgiving at someone's house other than your family's is that the stuffing is never right, but all of my guests seemed satisfied with mine.

That, or the wine was flowing well enough that no one noticed it wasn't just like home.

My guests lingered until around 8:30, at which point I changed clothes and headed to Ipanema for a Triple D party (drinks, dessert and dancing).

I can't say that I've ever had Thanksgiving night plans, but it was really the perfect way to spend the evening.

The hostess had made a party tape for the ages, spanning everything from "Temptation Eyes" to "Young Turks" to "Rapper's Delight" and "P.Y.T." with Britney Spears, Prince and John Cougar Mellencamp in between.

Awesome beyond belief and oh-so-danceable.

Desserts ranged from s'more pie to sweet potato pie, to hummingbird cake to chocolate cream pie and easily a half dozen more.

And yes there was pumpkin cheesecake for the semi-traditionalists.

I had a great time playing photographer with my friend's boyfriend's camera.

Moving around the dance floor, behind the bar and even standing on the bench, I was able to capture all kinds of things.

Kissing couples, a guy doing his best male stripper imitation holding a ceiling pipe, a whitest guy dance-off, you name it, I shot it.

No doubt there will be a lot of incriminating moments caught on pixels when those pictures are viewed tomorrow.

And since I didn't become the shutterbug until well into the party, I'm afraid I'll see a few cringe-worthy shots of myself.

Not that I'm worried in the least about any documentation of tonight.

As I told my friend on leaving, this had to be my best Thanksgiving day ever.

How did it take me so long to figure out that art, music and dancing are what I should be thankful for on this day?

Incriminating pictures notwithstanding.