Post Thanksgiving Hangover and the Madness of Crowds
Did you survive Thanksgiving? I did.
But barely, since my true love of many years keeps taking the bread off my plate.
Each time I grab at a roll, she’ll say, “No bread for you.” She’ll give me a sweet smile. I wanted to get her permission to write about how she became the “Carb Police,” but all she’ll say is “No comment” and threaten to call the doctor.
I love you honey.
But enough about me. What about you?
We’re all suffering through the Thanksgiving hangover as we lurch into the Season of Buying Stuff.
So, what can we expect now that the turkey soup is finished?
Federal indictments would be nice. I hear Santa’s federal elves in Chicago are in their workshop as I type this, preparing for a big day for some bad girls and boys from Springfield.
And as we wait, how about a heartwarming poem about the cold?
“It’s cold,” said a guy outside the diner. “Look at the sky. It’s gray. It’s so cold.”
He pointed at the sky as if I didn’t know where it was. I nodded and smiled, as you do when some frenzied person attempts to talk to you about the end of days, while watching their hands in case they’re holding a boning knife.
Yes, rather than simply humor people about the winter, I’ve decided to do something constructive and write poetry.
Yeah, I’m not the first to do it. And yes, I have written columns about the cold when I couldn’t come up with anything else. Wouldn’t a cold haiku work just as well? So here goes:
It is (bleeping) cold.
It is really (bleeping) cold. Now shut the (bleep) up.
The end.
But isn’t there more to the season than haikus?
How about the vulgar massing of the hordes outside stores waiting for deals, and those fake happy TV specials devoted to a holiday they won’t name, except to say that ‘’tis the season”?
And cats and dogs dressed up as elves on social media. Idiotic commercials involving luxury cars wrapped in red paper, as if she’d really like a car you can’t afford with a big bow on it.
And my personal favorite, the mobs fighting each other over some stupid toy.
Ah, the stupid toy longing. The stupid toy frenzies. The stupid toy drama.
Those thrilling stupid toy stand-up TV news spots outside the stupid mall or big-box discount store. The crowds giddy with excitement that the doors will open any minute so they can rush in and crush people underfoot and grab some stupid stuff.
If you have half a mind, you can almost read the headlines to come, because you’ve seen their kind before:
“Grandma stomps Florida man to death over the season’s hottest toy”
“‘I don’t even know what it is, but I had to have it for the kids,’ cries killer grandmother.”
“Frenzied crowd pulls legs and arms off each other fighting for last bargain TV.”
“‘It was hell,’ says lone legless survivor. ‘But now I can watch ‘The Mandalorian’ on 8K.’ ”
The hype train rolls out of its corporate station, reporters whip up a buzz, everyone has to have whatever it is. Once it was Beanie Babies. You don’t know about them? Look it up.
They were cheap felt stuffed with beans to resemble tiny animals with the spine removed. What fun.
“Beanie Babies?” asked my son. “It was a thing?”
Yes, it was a thing. Idiots craved them, coveted them, obsessed over them. Some were even interviewed — in a practice once called journalism — about all the types of stupid, spineless felt creatures, including the exotic varieties.
And America in her wisdom allows such people to vote.
What is the stupid must-have toy of this year? I really don’t care. It’s always something. If I were assigned to report on such a trend, I’d probably quit and go work for Adam Schiff.
Besides, most children don’t play with toys anymore. Little ones still play with toys. But once they’re about 8, American kids demand electronics, to rearrange their cognitive patterns and remove any last chance at creative thinking.
This way, it’ll be much easier for them to bend the knee when China demands.
And books, schmooks.
You want a toy for little kids that many would think stupid, but really isn’t?
A big cardboard box.
Let the little kids play with boxes and imagine they’re defending castles. Give them cardboard tubes from the wrapping paper for sword fights.
Or just give in and hand the little ones plenty of cash, and an iPhone with unlimited data, so they can grow up to be herded by “influencers” and join the trend of the moment.
Like those “Perineum Sunners,” which sounds to me like an internet hoax.
It’s the “hottest trend gripping wellness die-hards,” says The New York Post.
Really? The idea is to remove your clothes and point your behind at the sun to allow hidden parts to benefit from the rays.
“In a mere 30 seconds of sunlight on your (deleted) you will receive more energy than you would in an entire day being outside without your clothes on,” the Post quoted a human influencer named “Ra of Earth.”
The story also quoted various physicians who didn’t think it was such a good idea, but what do they know?
After the Thanksgiving hangover, it is time for the madness of crowds.