Black Friday: Blurring the Holiday and the Holiday Sale Line

Well it's November, so there is no escaping the onslaught of holiday, take your pick: ads, stories, displays, sales, music. And yes, every year they appear earlier in the year. But this year the unofficial start of the season, Black Friday, starts barely after our Thanksgiving indigestion has kicked in.

Yes, this year Walmart and Kmart have announced their stores will open for the Black Friday sales at 8 pm on Thanksgiving night. I can see men all across the USA pumping their fists in the air. With one fell swoop, the retail giants have made ardent fans of millions of men in this country. Why? One word...football.

I firmly believe many households will be sitting down for the traditional meal just a little earlier this year. Shovel the food down, clean up the mess and shuffle off to the discount chain of your choice. Oh yes, thousands of wives, girlfriends and daughters will be getting antsy to head out, leaving behind thousands of fathers, sons and boyfriends lying in various states of bloat...alone with football. And the couch.

Brilliant.

I will not be participating in the shopping excursion. I, myself hope to be lying on the couch in a state of bloat watching football. Ok, I won't. I'll be on the computer, but the game will be on in the background. My cooking and cleanup completed, a little holiday buzz going and it's time to vegetate.

And give thanks.
And nap.
zzzzz

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Frankenstorm: Gone Shopping Yet?

We are now into the second day of the unofficial Kat Hurricane Watch. Unofficial because Official might imply that I actually know what I'm talking about.

We left off yesterday after the early morning broadcasts of impending doom. Thank you for the heads up, but does it need to be non-stop coverage five days ahead of the storm and pre-dawn? I think not.

Left the house around eleven to do my Friday ritual of grocery shopping, getting gas, and other errands to get ready for the weekend in the Poconos. The price of gas was a nice surprise. Found a nice nest of competitive stations where the highest price was $3.07. Filling up at $2.99 a gallon was something I did not expect to see again in my lifetime. And as usual in Jersey, WE DON'T PUMP GAS. ever.

the line up.

Next stop...Shop Rite. Parking lot full and at this time of the day, it should not be. Finding an aisle where two men are getting into their cars; I wait. They are just about across from each other, so as they both pull out, there is really nowhere for anyone else to go. But that didn't stop a car from each direction in trying to pass them. Gridlock Aisle Four...and I'm still in the parking lot.

Now there are different types of shoppers and shopping trips. Around the holidays there are serious looking women on a mission, armed with detailed lists. They know what they need to do. Storm shoppers...not so much.

Yesterday the aisles were full of abandoned carts, which mainly happens when the shopper leaves the cart because they just remembered something they needed three aisles back. Then you have your duos. The elderly mother and her daughter, each with their own cart clogging the aisle, while the daughter screams every item she thinks her mother might need...and still the mother hears nothing.

Storm shoppers are like battle fatigued soldiers. They know they need supplies, but what to buy? Staples like milk and bread (btw, the 'uncle' saw a woman yesterday with an entire cart filled with white bread...wtf?), and batteries. We are told to buy them, but do we ever remember to check what size we need before we rush out the door...NO. So there you have the battery aisle overrun with people blindly staring at the battery display.

Other than beer, which is considered a staple in my home, I don't think I bought any of the usual storm supplies. I'm pretty sure we can get through a few days on my normally overstocked food supplies.

Update, update!!!!!
Morning news reports they are beginning to see the surf getting rougher and winds are picking up in Florida.

All Sandy, all the time.

Gotta go check my flashlight.

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For Men: A Cautionary Tale

When you live with someone for a very long time, sometimes the comfort level gets well...a little too comfortable. Easiest example of this is bodily functions. While I have no desire to do a play-by-play on this, we all know over time things that would never be considerable acceptable on a first, second or third date, become commonplace and for the most part...ignored. All of our bodies function the same way, women though seem to have more control over them...that's all I'm saying about that.

Along with the physical nature of the passage of time, there is also the ordinary conversation. Granted, there is not a man still breathing who answered the question "Do I look fat in this?" with a "Yes." Somewhere in the evolutionary process, they have learned to steer clear of that landmine.

Which brings me to three little words which were uttered yesterday by 'the other.'  I don't even remember how the conversation began as I was sitting at the computer writing yesterday's Music blog. Normally my attention to his speaking when I am writing is minimal... at best. An occasional nod or "uh huh' is usually sufficient to get through a quick conversation. If it starts to become a little cumbersome, the crazy lady appears and her voice and attitude quickly has him heading in another direction. And yes, he will read this post...another interesting conversation to be sure. But I digress.

As I sat here yesterday, he said to me "You have really nice hair"...and here it comes..."for your age." dum de dum dum. As my head spun around a full 360 degrees, I said "You really didn't say those three words did you." Then came the confused expression on his face and the protest that it was a compliment.  No, a compliment would have ended with the first half of the sentence.  What the second half did was make it a comparison...you would think after more than two decades of living in the same house...he would know better. And this is coming from a man who will hit an age milestone this year that is still unfathomable to both of us.

Anyway, as I started to scribble a few notes about what was being said, he asked if this was going to end up a blog. I gave him the look. Not only does he need to be scolded and shamed in a public forum, but it is my duty to advise my male readers there is a price to pay for getting a little too comfortable..and not doing a word-by-word analysis before you issue a 'compliment.'

In a related story, afterwards he took me clothes shopping.. a nice trade-off for a little back-handed flattery.

"Do I look fat in this?"

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