Black Thanksgving: A Real Turkey

There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.

                                                                                                                       O. Henry

 "Money
It's a hit
Don't give me that do goody good bullshit”

                                Roger Waters (Pink Floyd)

Thanksgiving is upon us once again.  It is as O. Henry said a purely American holiday.  It’s a day that sparks a national homing instinct causing the great migration on the fourth week of every November, jamming the highways and stuffing airport terminals.  It’s a holiday laden with traditions; some like turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie and football are common to all while others have a dear, personal, family significance.  For instance there was one memorable, special tradition that my family had when I was a kid.  After dinner the adults would get together for a full blown, all out, shouting, argument.  My dad and my Aunt Donna euphemistically called it “political discussion” and that’s usually how it started.  But as the level in the Early Times jug receded and the level of Early Times in the adults increased discussion clearly turned to argument (For the teetotalers and the under age, Early Times is bourbon whiskey.  It isn’t to be mistaken for Woodford or Maker’s Mark which are smooth and go down easy. Early Times is cheap and has an edge; sort of like swallowing splinters).  After an hour or so the red faces and raised voices would reach a crescendo of outright billingsgate and then the participants, spent from exertion and hooch retired for the evening.  In the morning peace was restored and a little hair of the dog was enjoyed; well maybe it was a lotta little hair of the dog, usually screwdrivers and Bloody Marys.  To this day, whenever I hear, “you goddamn right wing bastard” or “you Socialist son of a bitch,” I get a little teary eyed. Remembering cherished traditions can do that to you.

There’s another Thanksgiving tradition that’s been with us since the 19^th century.  The day after Thanksgiving has long been the traditional beginning of the Christmas shopping season, though the name Black Friday is relatively new. Originally Black Friday referred to Friday, Sept. 24, 1864, when a stock market panic was set off by a plunge in the price of gold.  Black Friday was attached to the Friday after Thanksgiving in the 1960s when the Philadelphia Police Department used the term to describe the traffic tie-ups, automotive and pedestrian, that resulted from the crush of shoppers; it wasn’t a term of endearment. But just as tradition can run amok from too much Early Times so it can also get out of hand when we overindulge in greed and consumerism. 

Retailers have promoted Thanksgiving weekend with sales and even parades, an example being the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. Thanksgiving newspapers bulging with coupons and store circulars make the Sunday papers look like puny pamphlets.  Store openings have gone from relatively normal hours to 8 A.M. to 7:30 AM to the crack of dawn to the wee hours of the morning.  Stores have tried to outdo each other offering so called door busters; forty dollar Blu-ray players, nineteen dollar printers and 42 inch TVs for under 200 dollars.  

And while the price tags look inviting there are extra costs associated with these deals.  In many cases there is very limited stock on hand of the most attractive deals.  Want that bargain 42 inch LCD television?  How do you feel about waiting in line?  No not 15 minutes before the store opens; try closer to 15 hours before the store opens.  There are websites out there to teach fools, err, folks how to plan for a successful Black Friday; tips on scoping out the stores, making lists, falling in line in teams, provisioning, planning potty breaks, avoiding frostbite and not getting into arguments or fights or getting robbed (by that I mean getting held up by bad guys before the doors open as opposed to getting plundered by the retailers after the doors have opened).

Don’t look for any of that Christmas goodwill towards men on Black Friday, particularly from those looking for items that are “in limited supply.”  Black Friday is a Darwinian lab experiment, a study of survival of the fittest. And if you don’t get one of the coveted rare gems, retailers are counting on you to wander around the store, dazed, disappointed, dumbfounded and depressed and  looking for something, anything; “geeze I just spent my Thanksgiving on line, I can’t go home empty handed.”  Finally you have your treasures in hand and you head to the front of the store to see a line reminiscent of the one you’d see at Disneyland on a summer afternoon.  And when you’ve finally reached the front of the line you don’t get to ride the Matterhorn or Space Mountain; you’re going to deal with a cranky store employee who had his last nerve worn out long ago from dealing with rude, tired, impatient customers.  This is not the happiest place on Earth.  

Look, I really never had much of an opinion on Black Friday up until the point that braving crowds on a Friday morning turned into midnight mayhem that basically kicks a beloved, traditional holiday to the curb.  And so you say, well if you don’t want to shop on Thanksgiving night or get up early on Friday you don’t have to.  And you would be right.  But someone has to mind the store, restock the shelves, put the money in the till and clean up the mess created by this shopping bacchanal. 

There was a time when I worked retail and believe me it was a real drag to get out of bed to work Black Friday. But now if you work for Target or Best Buy or Kohl’s or any number of other retailers, you don’t have to roll out of bed to go to work.  You can get up from your Thanksgiving festivities and get to work by midnight.  No Early Times for you, unless you’re describing your work hours.  And if you work for Wal-Mart you best have your name tag and best smile on at 10 P.M on Thanksgiving Night because that’s when the doors open.

It wasn’t always like this.  There was a time when everything, and I mean everything, was closed on Thanksgiving.  Forgot the eggnog?  Run out of Early Times (the relatives usually didn’t as they would buy the giant economy size)?  If you were lucky there might be a mom and pop store that would stay open until two-ish before the proprietors locked up to join their families.  For us it was Frank’s Liquors in the nearby strip mall.  Frank kept a stock of staple items like milk, bread and eggs and he did a brisk little business on a holiday morning.  If Frank was closed we had to make a run all the way to downtown San Mateo.  It was a veritable ghost town except for little knots of cars parked in front of the liquor stores.  Everyone else was home with family. If you needed to gas up the car it would have to wait until the next day.  That’s right, the stations were all closed.  After all, gas jockey’s had family too. 

And it wasn’t that way just on Thanksgiving.  That’s the way it was with every holiday and that’s the way it was on Sundays.  These were rest days, family days.  We were all doing quite well with the arrangement until the retail suits discovered that they were losing a day’s revenue; “Oh my God, do you mean we could be making money on Sundays and holidays?” We’ll never see those days again.  Holidays are marginalized now. The Fourth of July and New Year’s Day hardly count as holidays anymore.  After all there are sales to take advantage of. Money to be made.

And why do retailers put people to work on holidays?  Why are people pulled from their Thanksgiving family gatherings?  It’s simple. Because they can and because they know something that we don't, and that is that we’re a nation of sheep.  A bunch of wolves in suits declare a sale and the flock dutifully queues up to fork over their dollars.  They don’t have to have a sale at 10 P.M. on Thanksgiving night.  The suits can declare a Christmas sale on June 6^th, July 23^rd or September 19^th if they want.  The flock will gather at the door and wait to be fleeced on any day they designate.  So why not make it some other random Saturday?  I know the answer to that question.  It's because they don't give a damn about people's holidays. Their hearts are tucked away in their wallets. Those un-merry gentlemen don’t intend for you to be God resting; or any other kind of resting for that matter.  If you’re a Kohl’s “associate” (gee I love that term, associate) there’s nothing like getting that early jump on Christmas by having your employer drop a lump of coal on your life before you’ve even expelled your post-Thanksgiving turkey belch.  There’s nothing that says Christmas like modern day retail executives playing the role of Scrooge to your Bob Cratchit.

But let's be honest here. It isn’t just the suits that are to blame.  We’re all to blame.  As I write this there’s a Kolh’s commercial on TV playing in the background a cheery yet annoying and insipid little jingle; “It’s Black Friiiiday, Black Friiiiday.”  It’s the siren song of consumerism, the real national pastime. Up to 152 million people are expected to take part in the orgy.  The largest ever flock of sheep; gathering because they’re told that they need to be there, to buy things that they can't afford.  We’ve allowed retailers, companies, corporations to take the human element out of our holiday; hell to take our holiday, period.  

There is something that the dreamer in me would love to see.  I would love to see people everywhere say, “You know what, take your midnight door buster and jam it. I’m staying home and spending Thanksgiving with my family. I’m going to watch all three football games, throw the ball around with the kids at halftime, eat too much and play board games till midnight. If I’m going to go shopping I’ll sleep in a bit and show up at 10 tomorrow morning.  I’m spending Thanksgiving on my own terms and not on your greed driven terms.”  And while I’m sure it won’t happen I urge all of you to stay home with your family, enjoy the warmth of your home, have a few drinks and call some relative “a goddamn son of a bitch.”  Happy Thanksgiving.