In my youth in grade school we would get to color as a treat before holidays. The teacher would use a memo graph machine to run off those sheets of paper with Pilgrims in their hats and so forth. The strong smell of that purple inked paper was almost a drug, a strong drug.
The teacher would hand out a sketch of a fine feathered turkey and then show us pictures of real turkeys in full color. I would get to work with my 48 count Crayolas to produce a masterpiece.
Looking back it was one of the few creative times available to express myself. That was as close to an art class that I would have until college.
We would talk about the turkeys at school.... and then....go home and eat one.
It was like watching a Porky Pig cartoon and then eating ham.
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