Tag Holidays

Why did the turkey cross the road?

Michael 4 Comments
Driving around here you might see just about anything on the road. Still, when a large turkey led a group of 3 others from one side of the road to the other that I happened to be motoring my way along one morning last week, the first thought I had was “hmm, turkeys.” The second thought was “Oh shit, she’s fast!” (I didn’t have time to consider all the possible gender permutations and for birds, those probably still stop at two) when this one wasted no time strolling over to my open window to see what that crazy human was doing stopped in the middle of where they wanted to walk and what was that thing I was aiming at her. (Or him.)
 
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After I got the window rolled up and the car back in gear and moving cautiously around the mini-brood I had my third thought. Why were the turkeys crossing the road? Why were they leaving the confines of high brush and much vegetation for the open back lot of a used car dealer? I didn’t think they were interested in a slightly used minivan but with turkeys who knows.
 
Some things I thought as the day wore on were:
 
They were released from a nearby turkey farm where the business was downsizing due to the anticipated lessened demand for turkeys, particularly the larger ones, this upcoming holiday season. Although … these seemed of the quite wild variety. Thus my next thought. 
 
They were visiting relatives still held captive at the nearby turkey farm and/or visiting said farm to attempt a release of said relatives due to the anticipated lessened demand for turkeys this upcoming holiday season.  But … that seemed somewhat implausible given that the average turkey is probably more intelligent than the average politician and therefore not given to such flights of fancy as to believe she (or he) (it?) could out talk a farmer, or talk a farmer out of a herd of turkeys. Herd? Flock? Bunch! On to the next thought. 
 
They were off to the large mega mart further up the road in the direction of their travel to take advantage of the discounted pricing of the fall version wrapper of snacks and candies to make way for the winter version wrapper for snacks and candies and in particular to score big on candy corn which has no winter equivalent. Then I realized I was on to something indeed! My final thought.
 
Why did the turkeys cross the road? To get to the candy corn! That perfect, super food that tastes better than kale and doesn’t stain like blueberries with it’s own holiday that’s not Halloween or Thanksgiving. (I know that’s all true because I read it on the Internet not just a year ago. In fact I know that’s true because I wrote it and posted it to the internet not just a year ago. All except the blueberry part. That’s new for this year. Always improving!)
 
So this Friday when you’re looking for something to celebrate other than the impending short reprieve of political ads, National Candy Corn Day is October 30 this year and every year. If you’re one of the weirdos who isn’t a fan of candy corn, cross the road and bring some to me. I’ll be busy looking up small turkey meal plans.
 
Gobble gobble!
 
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Happy Federal Employees Day Off Day!

Michael Leave a comment
Happy Thanksgiving all you Canadians, and happy whatever holiday it is that we Americans (U.S. type) are supposed to be ashamed of but we’re glad to get the day off anyway so let’s just change the name for when we are talking on social media or while standing in line at the coffee shop. Woe to he or she or they or it or whatever is the right way to refer to him or her or them who dare utter the name Columbus. Don’t you know what he did to the true and rightful Americans (native type except not native as in one who was born here)?  From whence did all this vitriol come? Not the faux vitriol or he, she, them, it, and/or who or whatever. The frank vitriol being spewed by me! Well, I’ll tell you. Come sit and listen.
 
It was Sunday afternoon and I was out for a ride with my dear friend who had just travelled 3,000+ miles to visit and be able take such a ride. We were speaking of mountains, anticipating a trip to the nearest mountains, the Alleghenies, an mid-range of the Appalachians, to do some fall leaf watching. “Who named the mountains?” she wonder aloud. Without thinking I said, “I’m not sure. Around here almost everything was named by the original tribes.” Yes, that’s exactly how I said it. Not Native Americans, not Indigenous People, not [shudder] Indians. The original tribes. 
 
See, here there were several nations and tribes around here and many are still recognized as the names of towns or schools or rivers though not necessarily as nationals. Iroquois, Shawnee, Seneca, Chippewa, and others. Their cultures and language, their religions and even their forms of government differed much like France differs from Poland. Yet “we” the “woke privileged white americans” lump them together as Indigenous American or Native American much like we the same do the same with anybody “we” feel are or have been slighted by “us.” Asian Americans, African Americans, Latino Americans (which I suppose is now Latinx) yet never considering if we really wanted to recognize and celebrate their heritage we would take the time to recognize and celebrate their ancestry. Just as their is a huge difference between decedents of French and those of Polish ancestors so there is a difference between Cuban and Columbian, or Namibian and Nigerian, or Thai and Taiwanese, or even Chippewa and Cherokee. 
 
I don’t really care what you think of Columbus. What he did, didn’t do, thought about doing or wish he had done was done, not done, thought about, or wished for long before I was a gleam in my parents’ eyes. What resulted from those deeds and non-deeds can’t be undone. But what you decide to do or not do or think or dream today and tomrrow and the days after that do matter. So if you want it to matter more than just for as long as it takes for somebody to create an even more politically correct term for anybody who “isn’t like us” how about taking the time to talk to and learn about somebody who “isn’t like you.” You might find out their histories and culture are much more interesting than you read about in 40 characters or less on line.
 
Happy Day!
 
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A Special Easter Story. Corona-style

Michael 2 Comments
Spring time is synonymous with rebirth. Odd that the two big religious spring holidays, Easter and Passover, have so much death associated with them. As I’ve noted before, I mention these because these I know. I’m sure many of the other 4300 and some religions of the world may also ruminate on death during spring’s promise of new life.
 
Christian’s know before we can rejoice in Easter’s glory of Jesus Christ’s resurrection He must die. Today, Holy Thursday, would be the last day He sits, eats, and enjoys the company of friends. Depending on the gospel, the meal Jesus would eat would be the first day of or the day before Passover in that year, which commemorates God passing over over those who marked their lintels with the blood of the sacrificed lamb so they would be spared the killing of the first borns of Egypt.
 
So much death going on while trees are blooming and flowers are starting to open to the increasingly warming sun. But if not for the despair how would we make joy?
 
We are going through our own versions of events that made Easter and Passover the redemptive celebrations they are. And we may be doing a fairly poor job of it. Not even considering the (hopefully) extreme approaches of those who routinely add comments to the end of online news articles placing blame on anybody they dislike or disagree with, the (hopefully) typical approach of self-isolation is with, at best, reluctance. We all look for a reason to go out, a new definition of essential, or any opportunity to “exercise.”
 
The Christian belief of the events of today include Jesus washing of the feet of the disciples. Often lost in the other preparations for Easter, secular and religious, the story of the washing of the feet is one of the  most important lessons of the Bible. It is not only a symbol of humility and service but of love, the unconditional love that is expected of us. “Love one another as I have loved you.” Certainly without a thought of reward but also without complaining or devolving into a litany of “why me’s.
 
Never in our lifetimes has society as a whole been as preoccupied with the day it will be all over so we can truly celebrate. Would we not appreciate the celebration even more by truly denying ourselves of worldly pleasures now? We could not find better examples than those in our faiths, whatever you call yourself or whomever you follow, and deny yourself so you can love each other now and trust that there will be a later when when you celebrate with affirmation that as you have loved, you are loved.
 
Before we can celebrate the joy we must recognize the death. Before we can celebrate freedom we must experience denial. Before we can think about what it will be like when this is all over we must accept that it isn’t just yet. But it will be. This is our great sacrifice that will lead to our great relief. And it is a great opportunity to love your neighbor. No exceptions. 
 
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Happy Birthday, By George!

Michael Leave a comment
how to draw birthday balloons Awesome Birthday Cake Drawing Cartoon at GetDrawings
In honor of today’s pretend holiday I slept late, had a big breakfast, and did not go to work. Just like most Mondays around here.
 
When I was working there really were no holidays. And not just the “minor” holidays.  People in health care are used to the idea that any day, any shift, is potential work time. The funny thing is, hospital administration, particularly Human Resources, are often not health care workers and try to insure everyone is treated “fairly” and should not be denied their “time with their families.” As a department head I was responsible for making sure my staff got their time off but still had all my shifts covered. Of course the problem was that as far as their families were concerned, the holidays that were celebrated as families like Thanksgiving or Christmas were celebrated on Thanksgiving and Christmas. Others like Washington’s Birthday weren’t celebrated by them either so who cared when that day off got made. And thus, the “floating holiday” was born. 
 
On one hand it made for a nice surprise sometime during the year to get a day or two off that didn’t require using sick or vacation time. On the other, when would you use it? Did you tack it on to a planned vacation picking up an extra day on the company’s dime? Did you save it for your anniversary and surprise your spouse with a day all his or hers assuming she or he could also get that day off? Did you take it to paint the living room, plant the garden, or sit at the DMV for your picture to be taken for your new driver’s license?
 
I can say with scientific certainty after years of study on the subject those who are graced with a floating holiday will most often use it to celebrate a birthday. Often their own birthdays with spa days, shopping days, drinking days, or overeating days. But just as often for a birthday in the family. A young child who didn’t get to see Mommy or Daddy on Christmas morning but here they are now on the child’s own birthday morning and staying together all day long. A parent who gave up many of his or her own birthdays and holidays to work extra shifts or second jobs to send Junior through college and watch him fulfill his dream of working with the sick now finds Junior planning a surprise party for his parent’s milestone 75th birthday. A spouse who keeps a supply of cards and candles when Hubby comes home and says “don’t forget we have that birthday party to go to tonight” comes home from work to find Hubby putting the finishing touches her birthday dinner all on his own. These were often the days people took off for their “celebrate with your family floating holiday” days. 
 
Although we often didn’t get days off to party with Martin Luther King or George Washington we got to celebrate with some pretty special people. So Happy Birthday George, and thanks for all the days you gave me and my family over the years.
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Have a Heart, Please

Michael 2 Comments
For such a short month with only 28 days, 29 this and every Presidential election year affording candidates an additional 24 hours to make fools of themselves, February is chock full of imposters, sequels, and me too holidays.
 
The most famous of non-holidays comes up next week but has been in full fledged celebration by car dealers, furniture stores, and discount houses for weeks now. Of course that is the never authorized, not recognized Presidents Day.  Not being an official national holiday has not stopped business from taking advantage of consumers with “the biggest savings of the year” nor unions taking advantage of businesses with demands of yet another day off with pay. Of course the real holiday is Washington’s Birthday, never celebrated on his actual birthday because that would mean the loss of a 3 day weekend in most years. Bonus points for anybody who can identify Washington’s actual birthday without Google.
 
Looking for a reason to drink to excess and St. Patrick’s Day is a whole month away. Don’t fret or fear, Mardi Gras is here. What started out a few hundred years ago as a day of atonement and confession before Lent begins has morphed into “let’s eat everything in sight, have parades all day, drink all night, and show our boobs (pardon me) in exchange for a string of plastic beads.” Although the date varies because Ash Wednesday varies because Easter varies (you remember those days, right?), it most often is during February that merchants along Bourbon Street grease the poles outside their establishments to deter drunken idiots from trying to climb them.
 
For 134 years a peace loving furry woodland creature has been forecasting Spring’s arrival in a quaint Pennsylvania town. Of course this is commemorated in the most important day in the modern calendar, February 2, Groundhog Day. Sometime, details are sketchy exactly when, meteorologists began celebrating National Weatherman’s Day, now known of course as National Weatherperson’s Day on February 5. There’s logic to this they say. That is the birthday of John Jeffries, purportedly the first to record daily weather observations. That would be fine. Many professions recognize their pioneers. But this year I noticed on February 5 more news snippets decrying Punxsutawney Phil’s bold prediction of an early spring with repeated references to his predictions being accurate only 40% of the time. I did a little research on this. Phil is predicting for 6 weeks! According to National Weather Service data although a 7 day forecast is accurate 80% of the time, a 45 day forecast (about 6 weeks) has an accuracy rate of 40-50%. Hmmm. Methinks and all that jazz. 
 
February is the month of love recognized as National Weddings Month (I would have thought June, no?), Creative Romance Month, and Affair to Remember Month (no clarification if that refers to the movie or a tryst), with International Flirting Week (for the not so serious?) tossed in on the month’s third week. But if those and the chocoholic’s dream date Valentine’s Day don’t fill your bill we can now add, and on this very day, Galentine’s Day. A day with origins similar to and about as real as Festivus and Friendsgiving which are now also apparently really real. And yes, the wanting to be next to be really real, Palentine’s Day is making inroads also. And here all these years I’ve been sitting at home alone without a romantic other half to celebrate. Gee, who would have thought one could make a holiday out of picking up the phone and asking a couple friends to go out for a drink. I would have have missed the boat and called that something like Thursday but then I’d have missed out on the greeting card conscesssions. (Oh yes you can. Check out your local card shop.) 
 
One day in the month that should be a real deal holiday with cards, gifts, TV specials and days off for proper celebrations (with pay if you can swing it) is February 14, no, not the flowers and chocolate day, but National Organ Donor Day. Hop over to organdonor.gov to find out about how organ and tissue donation works and how to register to donate. Ah, the gift of giving your heart to someone. Now that’s true love. And nobody will throw beads at you.
 
 
GTHeart
 
 

Groundhog Day Eve Eve Eve… and it better not be the last one!

Michael 2 Comments
I love Groundhog Day. There. I said it. Again. And will again. And again. It’s a love that never abates. How could anyone not live Groundhog Day?  A furry woodland creature not known for building dams, outsmarting waskly hunters, or becoming Daniel Boone’s hat, gets more than his 15 minutes of anthropomorphic fame each February 2 and the ensuing six weeks.
 
The great and wonderful groundhog with special and semi-secret skills has the power to capture man’s interest and captivate the entire human race or at least those in the know like no other furry friend since the mink in the 1950s. Without the groundhog we would never know if we should pack away our parkas or beef up our boggins. Yes, our resident rodent is truly righteous.
 
But now the prognosticator of prognosticators, the seer of seers, the meteorological marmot is under attack, personal attack, attack by name, as in we want you Punxsutawney Phil, to be no more, to cease and desist the sharing that special knowledge of seasonal weather patterns with the ever waiting world, and retire to a life of obscurity and be replaced by a (my hands are shaking as I type this), by a (deep breath here), by a, a, a robot. A robot! Hmmph!
 
That animal support group that assumes only its ways are the ethical ways to treat animals yet cannot count even one single groundhog, nor any other animal for that matter among their leadership, claim to know what is best for that most famous furball and insist it is “long overdue for Phil to be retired.” Notice “to be retired” not even just ‘retire’ like it would be his choice, but “to be retired,” like some old horse put out to pasture. All true Phil fanatics know this is no ordinary groundhog living his peaceful and quite cushy existence at Gobblers Knob. He has been forecasting for 134 years. That one single, extraordinary example of Marmota monax has been the center of the winter weather world for 134 years. That’s one hundred, thirty seven years! To suggest he is “to be retired” is to encourage and support age discrimination, hardly an ethical stance for any mammal.
 
And what would those manic meddlers suggest we do every Second of February for our prophetic forecast fix? Artificial Intelligence.  Hmmph – again! As stated by a representative of that nebby group, an AI module attach to an animatronic groundhog could “actually predict the weather.” I can see it now, the president of the Inner Circle knocks on former Phil’s front door and says, “Alexa, tell me the weather for the next 6 weeks.” Double Hmmph!!!
 
I say no! This is not the time for Punxsutawney Phil to be retired. Not this year, not any year. We’ve seen what so-called progress does. Bulging landfills, holes in the ozone, pet rocks! When will our march to oblivion stop? Now I say, now! This is the time to embrace Phil (not too tight – he is 134 years old after all) and demand he never retire and will always guide us to our destinies. Or at least to the next six week. 
 
Phil

The robots are not coming! Long live Phil!

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More Than a Dream

Michael Leave a comment
A big announcement is coming up. On February 1 the National Football League selects its Hall of Fame “Class of 2020.” I’ve always been sort of tickled by sports halls of fall identifying those selected in a particular year as the “class of.”  But then what should we expect from a business built on little boys’ games most others set aside right around graduation day?
 
There are halls of fame for everything, not all have “classes of” but they routinely preserve the memories of those ostensibly demonstrating greatness in their chosen field. There are the sports halls of fame for professionals and amateurs, music halls of fame from country to rock to gospel to blues, there are transportation halls of fame including aviation and motorcar entries, there are entertainment, business, and industrial halls of fame. There are more halls of fame than just that one that made Canton famous even if it is a little better known that say the National Mining Hall of Fame and Museum of Leadville, Colorado.
 
Something almost every hall of fame can relate to is that as soon as new inductees are announced criticism of the choice or oversight of some more worthy selection commences. Criteria is questioned, motivation is questioned, often the parentage of those making the selections is questioned! I am certain among the thousands of people enshrined in the hundreds of halls of fames none would be a unanimous choice if the choice was made by the entire represented avocation, sport, or profession. We just aren’t built for agreement that way.
 
Staying with sports halls of fame for the moment, every year at announcement time the sports talk shows are flooded with calls from fans who know So-And-So was a much better PositionInQuestion than Whatshisname could ever be followed quickly by calls from others pointing out that’s only because Whatshisname played in the LiveBall, DeadBall, LessInflatedBall, LeatherHelmet, PreSteriod, or Paleolithic Era or perhaps because the players in So-And-So’s time were bigger, smaller, faster, slower, taller, better trained, or nongenetically modified. And all might be valid points if anybody really cared or if we were talking about statistics. Performance will change as time changes and standards of performance change as performance itself changes. But are statistics all it should take to be enshrined in a hall or fame. In fact, should statistics even be considered when selecting somebody for enshrinement.
 
If you’re still reading don’t bail on me yet because a point really is coming up. 
 
Criterion 1: If you are telling the story of us, can you do it without saying his or her name?
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While I was reading an article about the recent NFL special “Centennial Class,” among the readers’ comments was a surprisingly intelligent one. While others debated the merits of those selected and ignored, making what they probably thought were very compelling arguments, one reader observed the only criterion should be “can you tell football’s story without mentioning his name?” Now that’s selection criteria in a nutshell. Not victories or championships or statistics, but contribution.
 
Halls of Fame have something else in common. They all “enshrine” their recipients. Not recognize or honor. Enshrine. To enshrine is to preserve or cherish as sacred, something worthy of awe. That anonymous commenter had the right idea. If you are going to enshrine somebody that person should be such a big part of the story that the story would not exist without him or her. You might have noticed when I mentioned the different types of halls of fame from automotive to wrestling, there is no Human Hall of Fame. Maybe that’s why we don’t have a human hall of fame. Who has given so much we wouldn’t be us otherwise? Who is so worthy that we could “enshrine?”
 
Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Many celebrate it with a day of service as a means of commemorating Dr. King’s service to the civil rights cause. An interesting thing about Dr. King’s famous “I have a dream” speech is that every American, recognizes the words “I have a dream.” Not many speeches have that level of recognition. Say Martin Luther King and the first thing most people hear I their heads is “I have a dream.” It’s up there in our subconscious right beside “four score and seven years ago,” “a day which will live in infamy,” and “ask not what your country can do for you.” You hear the words and you know the speech. Or do you?
 
Did you know on August 28, 1963 when Dr. King addressed the crowd i  Washington he uttered the words “I have a dream” eight times. Do you know what came after any of them? One time it followed that his dream was his children would be judged by the “content of their character.” Not by their name, their color, or their station in life, but by their character. Character. Who they are and what they do to make them them part of us. 
 
Is that not for what we all should dream and thus strive? To be of character worthy of being remembered. To not be able to tell the story of us without mentioning us. If we were to have a Human Hall of Fame and we used that single criterion – Can you tell our story without saying his name? – Martin Luther King Jr. certainly would be in the inaugural class.  
 
Later this week when you’ve done your service and you’re back to debating the various halls’ of fame classes of 2020 take a moment and pretend you’re on the selection committee for the Human Hall of Fame. You get to ask one question. Can you tell the story of humankind, how we got to be us, without mentioning somebody? Who would you enshrine there? 
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Happy Old Year

Michael 2 Comments
Movie goers who are certain they don’t make ’em like that any more, like me, often find themselves wishing for 1946 again. The Big Sleep, Razor’s Edge, The Postman Always Rings Twice, Gilda. Those were some of 1946’s bigger box office pay days. Oh yes, there was that big box office flop, It’s a Wonderful Life. 
 
Oh to relive 1946. That’s just what Sheila Page played by Joan Leslie gets to do in 1947’s Repeat Performance. In a heavily reworked version of the 1942 William O’Farrell novel, Sheila gets to relive 1946 from New Years Eve to New Years Eve. Well people had been reliving past cinematic lives for a while, particularly around the holidays, the previous year’s Capra classic being just the latest. Ah, but this one had a twist. Sheila doesn’t just watch her past life like Ebenezer Scrooge or George Bailey. Nor does she dream or imagine what a do over might get her the second time around. She gets dropped right back into her previous year with the full knowledge of the happenings of her first go at it and her plan for rewriting the script. 
 
Surely you’ve said to yourself a time or two “if I could only do that again” or “I wish I could have that day back.” Without revealing any more of the tale if you should want to see it for yourself* you probably can figure out that things aren’t going to go as planned. Obviously she didn’t live her first shot at 1946 in a vacuum and she isn’t going through version 2 alone. That’s the trouble with wishing for a redo, everyone else comes along too. Whether you want them or not. And there’s no guarantee that even if you could do your part differently that with everybody else adjusting and refining the end result won’t be the same.
 
My 2019 was not a banner year for me. If you’ve been reading these posts for a while you know that. If you are new just read the last posted kidney transplant update and you’ll get an idea of what I did on my summer vacation and it didn’t involve Disneyland. So if I had a chance to repeat this year would I leap at it? 
 
I think I’ll take a crack at revising things in the new year. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if we could dispense with today and tomorrow. I’ve already had enough of 2019.
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*The 1947 movie Repeat Performance was lost until very recently. There are plans for a DVD and BluRay release. It is currently available in Turner Classic Movie’s on demand listings. There is a newer movie of the same name from 1996 that was a completely different story, perhaps even more obscure that the one lost for 70 years. Don’t be fooled by that. In 1989 NBC released a remake of the 1947 film as the made for TV movie Turn Back the Clock starring Connie Sellecca in the Sheila Page role as Stephanie Powers. That movie should not be confused with the 1933 comedy offering Turn Back the Clock which involves people reliving past lives but they were having a lot more fun than those that came in William O’Farrell’s novel released 9 years later which became the source material for the 1947 and 1989 movies. And you wondered why I wouldn’t want to redo a year. They can’t even get redoing movies right and that stuff is made up!
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“Happy Holidays,” he said.

Michael Leave a comment
In Miracle on 34th Street Santa Claus declares, “Christmas is not just a day, it’s a state of mind.”
 
I think he was absolutely right. And it’s not just Christmas. It is Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Saturnalia, or any of another dozen religious and secular holidays. The honored guest may differ but the driving force is the same in all: a celebration of life. Maybe new life, maybe preserved life, maybe life’s good health, or maybe the emergence of life. Life, common to all.
 
The fact that Christmas gets the bulk of recognition in the United States certainly colors the way Americans greet and celebrate with each other come late December. Being Americans we also go out of our way to inform the world in what somebody is sure are no uncertain words that we don’t play favorites, every one is equal, and if we wish you a Merry Christmas we really mean happy whatever you choose to celebrate today, this week, or this month.
 
Um, sorry, but no we don’t. We really mean Merry Christmas. Okay, I really mean Merry Christmas. But I don’t mean it in a mean way. You see I know how to wish a Merry Christmas to you. I don’t know how to wish you a anything else. When I wish you my Merry Christmas I wish you the peace and joy of the season. In my season that peace and joy is manifest in new life. 
 
20191222_214028Peace and joy. Because I don’t celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, although I know the words I don’t know their meanings to the celebrants of those words. But I know if they were to greet me with words customary to their celebrations that whatever the words would be there would be an underlying message of peace and joy, continued good health and a happy life. And I would be grateful for that wish.
 
Over the years the winter festivals have caused considerable consternation but have also been the source of considerable moments of peace. Even as wars raged there were moments when hostilities abated and peace fell even if not with much joy. It would be a great advancement to life if we could spend less time concentrating on the words and more time on the message.
 
Peace and joy to you however you find it, today and forever in your state of mind.
 

It’s Super! Yeah, Right.

Michael Leave a comment
Just when you thought it was safe to go back outside.
This close to Christmas with yet a weekend still ahead of us it should be a time to stay indoors and finish trimming the tree, plan the big family dinner, tune up our voices for midnight mass, and venture outside only for snowman building, sledding, and ice skating. Instead there is one last suspense filled 24 hours. Super Saturday. Also, and perhaps more appropriately known as Panic Saturday.
 
I’m sure with apologies to the National Football League but not to American consumers, Super Saturday is expected to outsell Black Friday this year as it has in most recent years, bringing retailers 60% of the years holiday sales and as much as 40% of this year’s total haul at the hands of those clutching fast melting credit and debit cards.
 
It’s hard for the young crowd to picture it but once upon a time, with the notable exceptions of Spiegel’s and Sears, people had to go to a real store to shop, those stores were closed on Sundays, and without constant flood of email reminders shopping was often a last minute activity. The Saturday before Christmas was the last chance to finish filling out the kids’ Christmas lists. So even without the commercials, banners, and full page ads those Saturdays were already super for many stores.
 
I’m not sure what to make of this year’s edition of Super Saturday. There are 3 days between Saturday and Christmas which is one more than most carriers need for 2 day delivery. Will people take that chance or will in store shopping outpace on line shopping? Will Internet shoppers take the order on line and pick up in store option? Will Saturday night bring regret over whatever choices were made.
 
Or will the collective America decide its bought enough already and spend Saturday building snowmen, sledding down a nearby hill, and falling on their behinds at the frozen over pond?
 
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Skaters
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