Black Friday, Mannheim Steamroller, and Elbowing Other Humans for Boyfriend Blazers

The turkey is devoured. The football games are won. And in a cross-generational coup that shushed all arguments at the dinner table, Macy's launched floats with both The Wanted and Mannheim Steamroller at the helms. (Did I ever mention how much I detest Mannheim Steamroller? Sort of a mash-up of prog rock and a bunch of Windham Hill drop-outs drenched in  chardonnay and dressed like Polyphonic Spree. I just don't go for that kind of thing.)

What's left to do but drink, belch, and nap?

Oh right...and shop.

Why did the damn Pilgrims sail all the way over here on the Lusitania 
and fight the Indians to preserve the Union and free the Boston Tea Party
if it wasn't to protect my God-given right to trample
other Americans for 50% off a flat screen television? I ASK YOU!
I braved the Black Friday crowds just one time in my life. And only because an ex-friend convinced me that I had to experience it - kind of like running a marathon or eating deep fried sheep butt or dropping acid before a Depeche Mode planetarium laser show.

In much the same way, Black Friday was frightening and confusing and I wanted to puke.

Finally, thanks to the Internet, I don't feel so alone in my horror.



Some Wal-Mart employees are co-opting the grand holiday of consumerism to stage protests against their employer. What do they want? A living wage, better benefits, and R-E-S-P-E-C-T. When do they want it? As thousands of shoppers begin beating down the doors for dollars off a bunch of crap toys and superfluous electronics that will be broken just in time for the Presidents' Day sales.



I've got mixed feelings on this.

On one hand, I'm aware of the chains of events by which hard-working people find themselves depending on low-paying, full-time retail work to get by. All the while, the Walton family is making hecka chunka cash. So, yeah, if we have to have Wal-Mart and people have to work there, then is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath, Mr. Potter? I mean, Mr. Walton?

On the other hand, I know that ceaseless shopping for more and more stuff is the greased chute that lands souls in the circle of hell filled with people who mine dry the earth's bounty all over a coupon for ten dollars off a piece of pre-landfill trash.

And no, I'm not much fun at cocktail parties.



"Here, too, I saw a nation of lost souls...they strained their chests against enormous weights and with mad howls rolled them at each other...one party shouting out: 'Why do you hoard?' and the other: 'Why do you waste?' "

That's what Dante had to say about storming the doors at Urban Outfitters for a bargain on cardigans and boyfriend blazers.
Retail employees are on the front line of madness today.
It is appropriate to offer them a hug. But be okay if they
politely decline.
Me? I stayed home again and knitted everyone iPads from last year's discarded Kindles.

And finished digesting turkey.


1 comment:

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

Totally disgusted by this madness.

Blog Ping