Many years ago, my large family would traditionally gather in Connecticut to enjoy each other's company on Thanksgiving. By today's standards, it was a risky trip getting there. Few of us wore seat belts. People smoked in cars that were run by leaded gasoline. No one had even heard of a breathalyzer; drunken driving was considered to be a hobby. And if you got into trouble on the road, you were hosed, because there was no such thing as 911 or a cell phone to call it.
Somehow, we always made the trip in one piece. But the real danger didn't start until dinnertime: Aunt Wilma's turkey.
Lovely woman, but unfortunately, the era during which women finally got out of the kitchen didn't...