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…
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