Black Friday

Well…you can tell I belong to another generation. I thought “Black Friday” was the day in October 1929 that the stock market crashed. But some Google research tells me that was Black Tuesday. I also, for some reason, associate the name with Good Friday. But more research tells me the color of mourning is Purple. So I guess Black Friday is so named because it puts the retailer’s cash flow in the black.

Whatever…I am not sure how a Friday in November came to be the Mercantile Madness Shopping Day After Thanksgiving Extravaganza and Parking Lot Nightmare. Were you out and about? Not me. I was home sleeping in and having leftovers and lolling around in my sweats watching football on TV. I have never considered shopping a recreational activity nor anything even approaching enjoyable.

The sense of the whole scene escapes me. I am offended by retailers (big box and local both) to entice folks into spending more than they can afford on gifts no one will remember by this time next year. I do enjoy the Holiday Bazaars with all the handmade items, but lately those prices have made them out of range for someone like me.

Now this morning I ventured out into a few stores to buy dog food and some yarn and a blue pen. It took me twenty minutes to get out of the feed store. The check-out girl at Target just stared at my little blue pen and asked where my cart was. It’s all too much. I still opt for the handmade homemade gifts. Which is why I have a lot of knitting to do so I’d better get going.