The Langs: sharing memories and weapons

Tempers are always simmering at the annual Lang family Thanksgiving meal. In fact, we usually don't know the meal is over until police arrive.

"Dad, could you pass the turkey?" I ask.

"Why can't you get it yourself?" he mumbles.

"Because it is right in front of you and I'm over here," I say.

"Typical. You've been depending on others your whole life. Never amount to nothing."

"Oh, I should be an out-of-work plumber like you?" I ask politely.

"Dammit, I oughta knife you right now in front of God and everybody," he snarls.

"You boys calm down! The preacher is here," Momma says.

"Mighty fine cornbread, Mrs. Lang," says the upbeat preacher.

"It's go time!" I say, overturning the table and grabbing the carving knife. Turkey goes flying, and the ceiling is sprayed with peas. Dad frantically looks for a trade up from the butter knife, while Momma runs to the pantry for the calming presence of the shotgun.

My grandmother spills out of her wheelchair and slides along the floorin a mashed-potato luge while issuing weak pleas for peace. The preacher grabs the whiskey as banjo music crescendos, and we freeze-frame and go to break. So Dukes of Hazzard.

Navigating family conflicts is always difficult, but it's even more difficult when you are a Lang.

Long-running blood feuds and interfamily lending has transformed our dinner parties into emotional minefields. Someone is always getting mad at someone for something somebody done wrong.

Five Worst Lang Family Holiday Moments

• My sister knocking down my uncle's house with a batwing mower because he referenced her "woman problems."

• My father holding a shard of glass to the neck of a great-aunt during an odd cranberry sauce dispute.

• My brother climbing the water tower with a deer rifle after downing a bottle of ant killer.

• My cousin holding us hostage while reading his "manifesto" into a bull horn for surrounding law enforcement.

• The worst Lang family holiday moment? Two words:

Grandma's striptease.