I think the first “never too early” layaway ad this year was in July. Black Friday ads popped in October and propagated in earnest on November 1.
One may with some validity wonder about the origin, in the US, of Thanksgiving. Many may have been (I was) taught the grade school story of the Pilgrims, the Patuxet Squanto, and the Wampanoag Massasoit in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1621.
According to historian James Baker, debates over where any (~ Wikipedia)
first Thanksgiving took place on modern American territory are a
tempest in a beanpot.
Many (we) know it as a day of eating, maybe turkey. (“Who brought the green bean casserole?”)
And in a few niche cases what we call “the good kind”: canned jellied cranberry sauce, lid removed, hole punched in the can bottom and blown out, can-imprint ridges intact, then sliced. (Or cran-raspberry sauce if we could ever find it again.)
Requisite TV football as background noise. Modern-day quaint.
Over coming months we have turkey leftovers: soup, sandwiches, burritos, enchiladas and the like. (“Turkey? Again?”)
That very next day is—shudder—Black Friday. (Sound of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Images of human herds with glazed eyes sucked in by merchant Frankensteins laughing loud and deep, “Come to me, My Pretty. Bwahahaha…It’s never too ear-rr-rr-ly. Makes a great gif-ff-ff-ft. Bwahahaha…”) Aieeee!
But this year unlike before we too may join the fray—unless we can finagle it on another day. We hope to get a lower price on a new dishwasher. An appropriate Christmas gift to each other after Thanksgiving’s dirty plates. (Well…er…not soon enough for those plates.) Our current dishwasher is showing its 25-year age: an occasional leak and lesser cleaning.
So this day, ♪thanks for the memories♪. The grins, and the chefs, repeating food and drink, and someday soon a little less danged scrubbing in the sink. Yes, ♪thanks for the memories…♪
May peace bless us every one.