Today I’m going to climb up on my SOAP BOX and rant about my disgust on how American merchants are trying to destroy one of the best holidays we have. Yup. You guessed it. I’m going to yell at all the big box stores to keep their Black Friday sales on FRIDAY.
As you know the latest trend is to push these ridiculous sales–where people forget their manners and trample each other to get the latest gadget– into late Thursday afternoon. If your family is anything like mine, this is about the time everyone is about ready to settle down in front of the television for a football game and usually falls asleep after eating too much turkey and stuffing.
I have fond childhood memories of my Thanksgiving celebrations. That was the day my mother would get up early, give the turkey a bath in melted butter and stuff the cavity with heavenly stuffing that had ground meat and raisins. It was a time when we set the dining room table with party favors that I made at grade school and our best china my mother collected from the grocery store. As the baking turkey’s aroma filled our home with succulent smells, the potatoes, corn, and squash would be cooking on top of the stove.
Just before dinner was ready, we’d all get dressed in our Sunday outfits and wait for our guests to arrive. I looked forward to playing with favorite cousins Nancy and Billie, and laughing at Uncle Marco’s jokes. Nancy and I were only a few months different in age, and we loved playing together.
When the turkey came out of the oven, I got to help my father carve the bird. We’d pile the white and dark meat on two different plates and in between, we’d sneak a taste of the holiday bird. It was a tradition that we carried on into my adulthood.
When all the food was on the table, we’d gather around and say “Grace,” and like after the last note of the Star Spangled Banner rings at a sporting event, it was time to pass the goodies. All the preparation and work was worth it as we gobbled down the good food on our table. There was laughter and conversations we didn’t have any other time of the year. Billie always said he loved my mother’s mashed potatoes, and my Uncle Marco would lean back in his chair, pat his abundant tummy and say he couldn’t eat another thing; but somehow he always found just enough room for pumpkin pie and ice cream.
So you see, American merchants. Thanksgiving is more than just a good meal. It’s a time families create traditions. It’s when families take time to be together, laugh and enjoy each other. It’s a time when special memories are made. Most of all, it’s a time to be thankful for what we have–not what we might find at the next sales event.
So keep your Black Friday on FRIDAY — and leave my Thanksgiving Thursday alone! Nobody needs anything that bad.