Once upon a time, Thanksgiving meant traveling to Grandma’s house to enjoy a Norman Rockwell moment. The turkey was carved right there at the table, and the person in charge of carving the bird considered it a privilege. Fathers handed carving sets down to their sons as a right of passage. It was a time for putting away petty family squabbles, for forgiving and giving thanks for all our blessings. There was something magical about this American holiday.