Black Friday was always exciting for me in previous years. A bastion of consumerism and capitalism, a time when the retail stars aligned and high end electronics, new clothes, and even basic things like socks became more affordable than any other time of the year. Christmas shopping, replacing old things, and just good old retail therapy became easier. The adrenaline rush of finding good deals and the looming threat that that good deal I saw in an ad might be sold out by the time I got to it imposed a time limit that only added to the fun.
This year was different.
One, I worked 12 hour shifts on Black Friday and the day after, so I didn’t have a lot of time to shop. Two, I was saving for a honeymoon, so I wasn’t going to break the bank. I took a more casual approach and wasn’t expecting to find anything good. I didn’t. My Fiancee bought about 90 socks with my money and a I got cheap controller. At the checkout, the cashier commented on how calm it had been this year. My immediate first thought was that Black Friday will probably be back to its crazy self next year. I didn’t realize until days later that I had just witnessed the death of a tradition. I read the articles and saw the headlines; people just stayed home this year and did their shopping online. That’s when it hit me.
Black Friday is dead. Black Friday remains dead. And we have killed it.
It won’t ever be the same. This, I firmly believe. From this realization a new fear came to the forefront of my mind: By the time I get old and die, likewise by the time most of the people who will ever read this get old and die, what traditions from our childhoods will remain? Will not they all share our fate and eventually become dust, dirt, or ashes? Traditions from the past often greatly inspire our futures to. My Fiancee is studying to become a teacher. Will teachers even be necessary to our society by the time she gets certified? My sister is training to become an Olympian. Perhaps even this tradition, the Olympic games, standing the test of time as it so far has has outlived its utility in this rapidly changing world. These are cynical views to take, I know, and even I severely doubt that teachers or the Olympics will ever obsolesce. But, if you asked me a few years ago, I might’ve said the same thing about Black Friday.
So, what do we do?
To be honest, I’m still unsure. What I am pretty sure of is that it doesn’t even matter. I still found some pretty good deals on things online, like everyone else did. More than the death of Black Friday, I fear what this could mean for the future. What other traditions will slowly but surely be put to rest after being a constant for so many years of our lives? I’m sure you saw this coming, but all I can say at this point is the tried and true “don’t take it for granted” spiel. All I can think to do with this newfound knowledge of, fear of, and respect for how rapidly things can change if we let them is to say this: I’m going to try my hardest to not let any more traditions be slowly sunk into the sea, I’m going to give them a well deserved sendoff. With this post, I hope to inspire others to do the same, as well as to thank Black Friday for the memories we made together. Don’t let the artifacts of your childhood go out with a whimper, but a bang.
-Spencer