Black Friday, Karma, and Random Fluff

When Did it Start?

I mean the whole referring to the day after Thanksgiving as Black Friday come from? In the 80's there was a black Monday when the stock market slid like a 500 points or something and markets around the world did the same--not really a good thing. I know some retailers have acted as though the day after Thanksgiving is the most important day for their whole year. But the day after Thanksgiving has also lost it's own magic. It used to have meaning but now it's, I guess just about money. When I was growing up, yes the day after Thanksgiving we'd all pack into the car and head Union Square in San Francisco, where cops would be there directing traffic. However, we were not there to shop, we were there to see all the Christmas decorations. I specifically was there to see Santa. My favorite place was Emporium Capwell's winter wonderland display. To me it represented Christmas with the nut crackers, trains and of course Santa in his own holiday shoppe.

Later when the shopping malls took over, the day after Thanksgiving still held the same meaning, as it was still a time to get your first injection of Christmas. Not to clean up on some good sales, and yes while there were sales, the main focus was going with the family. Not mom or dad, waiting in line all night long trying to score a big screen TV. Maybe I'm just sounding cynical, old and jaded but I don't care for this shift.

Is Black Friday So Important?

75% of people could have gone to the mall the day before Thanksgiving and stayed home on Friday, at least that's what surveys say that most people just look for a bottom bargain and will actually leave the store if they don't find one they wanted, empty handed. However, the weekend before Christmas is the BIG shopping weekend in fact it's the biggest of the season and that is the real crunch time for retailers.

That's the one where you can smell the desperation on people and they no longer care about price, they just want something to put under the tree. Which could explain how I ended up one year with artichoke plates. Or the other year I ended up with fluorescent green hat, scarf, and glove set that were horribly itchy and basically unusable. I won't continue to bore you through the past 24 years of bad holiday gifts. Though, last year my husband did come through with an iPod Nano, but with that said, he does hit the target occasionally. But, you'll just have to trust me that I do know something about the weekend before Christmas; I've got a closet full of bad gifts to prove it. Well that sounded ungrateful, and even a bad gift can be nice, right? The artichoke plates might be used one day.

Karma

Rainbird spent most of the time before Thanksgiving bitching about it, and believe me, I tried using the word complaining but it's just not strong enough. He bitched, everyday, to anyone that would listen to him. He had to deal with his parents, make the stuffing (his family recipe), make the brine (which I could have just as easily did but he figures that's *his* job). And with each task no matter how far in advance he made them, he bitched and moaned.

Then after those tasks were done he started whining and complaining about actual day, making the turkey and planning everything else. I politely reminded him with the exception of putting the bird into and taking the bird out of the oven, his work was done and the rest of the day is mine to deal with. I peeled the potatoes, cooked and whipped them, cleaned and halved the Brussels sprouts then baked, make sure the bread was cut and on the table with butter, cook the stuffing....I also had to set the table, and make the gravy. Now it also needs to be said that since we have just one oven, all those things were done after the turkey was out of the oven.

Ah, but what about that turkey? Firstly it needs to be said that cayenne pepper is NOT the same as paprika. And though he was told several times I was afraid the temperature probe was on the fritz, and he repeatedly informed me I was wrong about that. End result...The turkey was dry. I mean....DRY. Of course it was the probes fault and had nothing to do with his Freudian slips. Though seeing that dry bird placed a lot of pressure on me NOT to screw up the rest of the meal. Which came out darn good.

Friday came with me cleaning the kitchen, a fridge full of left-overs and then annual impending doom of decking the halls. I arranged for Pissboy to drag the box out of the loft area, the big box labeled, Holiday Crap and I dove in. There is something of an art to decorating for the holidays, anyone can just throw more stuff out but I'm a firm believer not doing that because for me, I start feeling claustrophobic. So, I have to decide what stuff gets put away, what stays and where everything else goes. It's a process that takes roughly a whole day, combined with other wifey tasks that need completing, like laundry, general cleaning, menu planning and the like. By Saturday I was left with just cleaning up and moving newly filled boxes back into the garage, but on Saturday I was feeling lazy, so those things were put off until Sunday. Sunday also included the rest of laundry, changing of sheets, washing of towels, folding and putting away and watching the customary chick flick on TV while doing said tasks. It's a time saver for me because it keeps the men away.

Name That Tune

I haven't done one of these for a while so I figured it was time.

What song by the Beatles was the very first that featured George Harrison playing the sitar?

First to answer correctly wins bragging rights and maybe a prize.


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