Traditions with which you did not grow up lack a certain nostalgic magic. So I manage not to get overly excited at the annual Memorial Day barbecue on our block after the war veterans’ parade. Or by the fusillades of lethal fireworks in our backyard on Independence Day. Never mind crowding onto a sofa to share pigs in a blanket with my neighbors while watching the Super Bowl. Alas, I even have few warm and fuzzy family feelings about pouring thick gravy over the Thanksgiving turkey. You simply cannot long for something that you did not experience when you were growing up in Europe.