The Mormon Third Eye has always subscribed to that precious principle of truth in advertising and accuracy in rendering descriptions of what is real. In that vein, how can any rational human being continue call the Friday after Thanksgiving “Black Friday?” Too many retailers, some who even blaspheme in the name of safety and protection of shoppers, in reality have ruined a perfectly primordial tradition in the eternal quest for profits. More and more of them are opening their doors on Thanksgiving Day evening, hence depriving me of the thriils and spills of early Friday morning shopping wars.
So, let’s call it what it has really become. Thank you Walmart, Target, Sears, and other big box retailers for turning the excitement and pageantry of a perfectly memorable tradition, Black Friday, into the casual catastrophe the Mormon Third Eye now proclaims to be “Soft, Grey Friday.”
What happened to the bonding and camaderie captured by brave shoppers waiting together in the penetrating early morning darkness of subzero temperatures, passing the time sharing unbelievable stories of shopping conquests of previous Black Fridays, some of which may actually be true? What about the one-legged man who used his crutch, and the young mom who used her two-week old baby, to prevent others from cutting in line and getting to the half-price laptops before they do? Who will be there to stop the saintly, middle-aged hefty round African-American grandma from ruthlessly body-slamming shoppers who dare cross her path to the ground, then walking over them on her way to the sale on computer monitors? Who will organize an early morning crack assault team of pre-teen nieces and nephews, complete with store diagrams, walkie-talkies, and code names, and execute a pre-planned, synchronized operation to descend upon Best Buy at 5:00 am and immediately locate the target, an all-in-one printer ? Seal Team Six would have been proud.
These are the priceless memories that have been made by sacrificing one Thursday night and Friday morning of sleep, warmth, and other basic comforts. As I graciously slide through middle age, I yearn for those magic moments of mayhem with loved ones. For some reason, working off a sumptuous Thanksgiving Day dinner by strolling down the mall that same evening, or even worse, relaxing at home shopping online from the comfort of a lazyboy recliner, doesn’t seem to capture the same thrill of the hunt.
But I’ll try anyway. Woohoo! Soft Grey Friday! Woohoo… yippee…