It looked, at first, like my Thanksgiving dinner was going to be more expensive this year.
Which is not to say, that I was planning to pay for it. A lot of times, in the past, I’ve been invited to have Thanksgiving dinner with my friends Jared and Ellie, and I normally contribute a pumpkin pie from City Market. Jared and Ellie spring for the turkey and cranberries and all the rest of the fixings. I’ve always assumed they could afford it, considering the size of their house, and the BMW in the driveway.
I had hopes the damage to my wallet would be, again this year, the price of a pie. Which would be, maybe, 50 cents more than last year?
But Jared and Ellie drove to Phoenix to celebrate the holiday with Jared’s family, which means two things.
Jared and Ellie probably won’t have to pay for their own turkey.
And I will be sharing Thanksgiving with my cat, Roscoe.
Most of us have been aware of food prices going up, but I didn’t realize how much, until I found myself faced with buying a turkey.
To better understand the highway robbery going on at the grocery store, I did a little research into inflation. I learned that the government normally tries to minimize the fear by publishing something called the “annual inflation rate” which is not the same as the “average inflation rate” — even though the “average inflation rate” is easier to calculate.
The “average inflation rate” last year was 8.0%. But the “annual inflation rate” for 2022 — 6.5% — was less frightening, even though you need a graduate degree in mathematics to calculate it.
The government does not want us to be frightened.
Last year, the cost of a turkey in November — compared to November 2021 — had increased by 7%. What had been a $50 turkey had become a $53.50 turkey. But that was just one year of inflation. Inflation has been steadily piling up, like junk mail during an election.
Once the price goes up, it does not come down, in obvious violation of the Newton’s Law of Gravity.
What was a $50 turkey ten years ago, now costs $67?
Luckily for me, Roscoe is not fond of turkey. What he really likes is canned tuna. But even tuna has gotten more expensive. $1 for Kroger brand tuna, on my most recent shopping trip. I can’t say for sure, but that same 5 ounce can of tuna probably cost 75 cents in 2013. (Bumble Bee Albacore tuna is now running $2 a can. But I don’t think Roscoe cares about brand names.)
When I sat Roscoe down and talked with him about Thanksgiving, and how much a turkey would cost, he seemed to be fine with the idea of tuna sandwiches. But his, without the bread. And also no cranberries, thank you.
Food experts are supporting this general idea. Like, for example, Leanne Brown, author of Good and Cheap: Eat Well on $4 a Day. She writes that some holiday traditions might be worth the time and money, but it’s a good idea to at least consider the possibility that they’re optional.
I like the idea of ‘optional’.
“There’s this idea that the holidays demand certain things — but the holidays aren’t a person… It’s more important to examine what are you hoping for with the holidays, and maybe it doesn’t necessarily mean having to make pumpkin pie or have a turkey if that’s causing you more stress, or if it’s not in the budget.”
Ms. Brown is entirely correct. A holiday is not a person. A person can demand things, and a holiday can’t. A holiday has to keep its mouth shut and let us the real people make the final decisions.
Assuming the cat approves.