The Morning After

The dishes are done, kitchen cleaned up, coupons clipped and they're on their way. The shoppers, of course. Those who move out before the crack of dawn to scarf up the bargains offered by retailers across the land. They've put out the merchandise we just can't live without, especially when it's priced low, lower, lowest. (Except Wii, XBox, Nintendo DS).

The economy being what it is, the question is how many people will be up and at'em this year. More than last? Less? Homes in foreclosure everywhere. Cars being repossessed. More people than ever before moving in with relatives. But the tradition of The Morning After will surely continue.

Every Talking Head will have the obligatory on-the-scene reporter to let us know how many people camped out to get one of the forty TV sets at Target. Followed immediately by a recap of the previous evening's preparations for the onslaught. Followed immediately by a recap of the various dinners prepared and served by volunteers to the less fortunate. (Do they really have to film the less fortunate as they dine? Methinks some of the less fortunate may be too proud to attend because they don't want the whole town to know that they're "less fortunate"). But I digress.

Once, a much younger, quicker Me did the shopping thing, and vowed no more. Why, you ask? I'll tell you. Because I want to live to see Christmas. That's why.

Crazed motorists. Elbows. No carts. Snarling and cursing. Long lines at the check-out, caused by lack of cashiers. (Didn't they know it would be chaos?)

So I stay home, read the paper, drink my coffee and digest my turkey. There will certainly be more sales before the 25th. Maybe even better sales as the date approaches. Or maybe I'll just notify my family that Christmas this year will be in January so as to wait for the after-Christmas sales.

To quote Ebenezer Scrooge - well...you know.