You don’t realize it when you’re a kid–or when you’re a grownup for that matter–but the biggest night of boozing and partying in the calendar year isn’t St. Patrick’s Day or New Year’s Eve. It’s the night before Thanksgiving.

If you come from a podunk town like I do, you know that ninety percent of your childhood friends have gone away to school or simply moved away from said podunk town. But they’re going to come home for Thanksgiving, and, knowing they’ll spend all day tomorrow with their families, are looking to spend some time away from their families tonight. Enter the local tavern owner, ready to oblige.

The odd thing about the night before Thanksgiving is that is still is Wednesday. Yes, it has the feel of a weekend, but it’s still a Wednesday for God’s sake. Whereas bars might be able to get away with serving later than one a.m. on New Year’s Eve, on Thanksgiving Eve it’s still a dead stop at one o’clock. That means whatever you’re doing you’ve got to finish by one. That serves only to accelerate the ridiculousness of the evening. Well, Phase One at least. I was reminded recently that there used to be this thing called Phase Two.

This year I’m happy to say I won’t be involved in any phases. I’m definitely more towards “grownup” on the subject of Thanksgiving Eve. (Though I’ve seen quite a number of ridiculous “grownups” out on Thanksgiving Eves past.) Tonight I’ll be home with my wife and cats in my new hometown, blissfully unaware of Binghamton shenanigans. Furthermore, tomorrow I’ll actually get to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, an event I’ve begun watching again after many years of never being up in time to see it.

Well, Happy Thanksgiving Eve, everyone, no matter how ridiculous or family-friendly you plan for it to be.