The night of sultry costumes and vagabond trick-or-treaters has passed, leaving retailers primed for sales that celebrate the birth of our Savior. But between Halloween and Noel something seems forgotten. In the family of the holiday season, Thanksgiving often gets the Jan Brady treatment.

Thanksgiving has become the neglected bastard of holidays. We move straight from carved pumpkins and fun-sized snickers to decorative wreaths and candy canes.

The annual feast serves up more migraines and animosity than Korn playing at a Klan rally. The culprit of such rancor is family overload. Too much family is an irritant akin to an annoying rash.

We need to find a way to keep the spirit of the day alive without killing the less-than-desirable family members.

Thankfully the day provides a smorgasbord of distractions.

Case in point, food and football, two of my three favorite F words.

Turkey may reign supreme, but it rarely differs from one dinner to another other than its preparation. Roasted or deep fried, it still tastes like turkey.

But the sides, well, that's another story.

Most of my adult Thanksgivings have been spent with other people's families: friends, girlfriends, et al. Through this I've learned there is plenty to be thankful for. Most of it comes in the form of cheesecakes, casseroles and cranberries. Everyone seems to have an aunt or second cousin who, though asinine, manages to prepare a dish that is just too special to imbibe more than once a year. And while we may resent said family member for their judiciary ineptitude, it's hard to bicker back and forth with a mouthful of homemade dressing.

If the food can't keep you from spouting out what you really think, try the TV.

For 90 years the NFL has provided enough Thanksgiving entertainment to hopefully stifle the drunkest of relatives. Football is just another guest attending the feast. Even if most of the party doesn't appreciate the game, a certain segment will sit on the couch, bloated and unbuckled, hanging on every play. It's a nice change from the backhanded compliments that often accompany a family gathering. After all, cheap shots are much more entertaining when they are delivered by a linebacker.

Suppressing our desire to strangle another human being and watching their face mimic the color of the cranberry sauce as they gasp for air may seem like a challenge, but it's just for one day, until next year.

If, by chance, your yearly quota for family tolerance has been reached--If Aunt Ruth "has it coming to her if she even starts"--do what I do: Go to a friend's family dinner. Watch and laugh as they grind their teeth into their tongue. It'll give you a good reset button for next year.