Car Rental Agent: Gobble gobble! [irritating turkey noises]
Once a year, in the midst of the holiday oasis of Thanksgiving, my immediate family stops for one, pumpkin-pie-scented moment. We seclude ourselves in the TV room of my Grandpa’s house, away from our cousins arguing over the nth game of cards or my uncle yelling at whatever very important football game is on. My mom, my dad, my sisters, and I all sit together and we watch John Hughes’s Thanksgiving classic, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles—which I would encourage everyone to watch before continuing this article.
The film follows Steve Martin’s Neal as he struggles to find his way back to his family for Thanksgiving and to get along with his unlikely and occasionally unwanted newfound travel companion and shower ring salesman extraordinaire, John Candy as Del Griffith. On their trip, Del and Neal encounter many trials, including but not limited to questionable taxi drivers, petty thieves, and Kevin Bacon. They have numerous arguments and fallings out, but ultimately gain each other's trust and friendship over the course of their journey together.
State Trooper: Do you have any idea how fast you were going?
Del: Funny enough, I was just talking to my friend about that. Our speedometer has melted and as a result it's very hard to see with any degree of accuracy exactly how fast we were going.
Truth be told: I’m not the biggest Thanksgiving person. It’s a holiday that always seems to be uniquely situated in every Fall semester to provide maximum inconvenience and stress. It’s a holiday for stuffing oneself full of turkey and patriotism, and I have been a vegetarian for nearly ten years. It’s a holiday for being with family, where I am forced to spend three to four days sleeping in a tiny room crammed full of my sisters and cousins, weighing my options of inevitably hitting my head on the ceiling or on the bunk bed above me. Growing up, Thanksgiving always felt like an uninteresting, albeit mashed potato-filled, pit stop to refuel from my Halloween sugar crash before speeding along to Christmas. I never even cared for pie.
[another driver is trying to alert them that they're driving on the wrong side of the highway]
Neal: He says we're going the wrong way...
Del: Oh, he's drunk. How would he know where we're going?
I wasn’t particularly impressed when my dad informed me that I was finally old enough to watch Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. I knew it was supposed to be a comedy, but I was also somewhat suspicious of the possibility that I would be stuck watching another livestream of the Horseshoe Curve (what can I say, Bakers are train people). Besides, I had, just weeks prior, been totally unimpressed by one of my parents’ favorite films, Spinal Tap, and I was expecting this movie to be another bust. I resigned myself to the fact that I would at least have popcorn to tide me over during this experience, and settled between my sisters on the couch.
Del: I haven't been home in years.
In the film, just before Neal is reunited with the family he’s endured so much to return home to and you are rewarded with the warm, fuzzy ending you were promised, he finally puts together the pieces of his new friend’s story. Neal gets off his train and travels back to the stop where he left Del alone. It is revealed that Del’s beloved wife passed away years ago, leaving Del alone for the holidays. Together, they hoist Del’s unwieldy and troublesome trunk up Neal’s front steps and, at long last, arrive home to enjoy a home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner together.
Del: Well, you think what you want about me; I'm not changing. I like... I like me. My wife likes me. My customers like me. 'Cause I'm the real article. What you see is what you get.
Thanksgiving is perhaps the least pretentious of the major American holidays, and I’m growing to respect that. It isn’t flashy like Halloween, and it lacks the presents one receives on Christmas.
It’s easy for me to forget how rare it is for my extended family to be together, sharing a home-cooked meal and all of the stories from the past year. To forget how much fun I can have with my cousins, playing pool in the basement and gossiping. And to forget what a gift it is to be able to enjoy the simple happiness of sitting with my family, laughing and crying at a movie.
Neal: Y'know, not everything is an anecdote. You have to discriminate! You choose things that are funny or mildly amusing! You're a miracle! Your stories have none of that! They're not even amusing accidentally!... Here's a good idea: have a point. It makes it so much more interesting for the listener!
Every November, when I’m frustrated with the invasive questions from my aunts, or tired of listening to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on full volume, I try to remind myself to be grateful for all of it—and that I’ll be watching Planes, Trains, and Automobiles soon.
