Black Friday

Yesterday was that day again, Black Friday. After all the heartfelt, gooey camraderie and goodfeelings of working together on Thanksgiving, it's a relief to cancel it all out with a good day of cut-throat, backstabbing competition over vacuum cleaners and iPods. The world needs to be balanced, right? We couldn't just have a day celebrating a time where everyone came together, and then leave it like that. The good feelings would spoil faster than the leftover turkey. Instead, we remind ourselves that America wasn't built on those wimpy synergistic ideals. It's much more important to celebrate the American legacy by fighting against out neighbors in order to save a few pennies. And it's more historically accurate. Did the Indians and Pilgrims just live in peace and prosperity after that first Thanksgiving? Of course not, the next day they were at each others throats, for cheap land instead of cheap shoes, but it's the idea that counts. I for one am glad that we finally got all this nonsensicial teamwork out of the way, because that's obviously not what Thanksgiving is about. It's apparent that the turkey day is really made so everyone can celebrate their obscene riches by stuffing themselves at least ten times as much as is reasonable for survival. Because if we eat ten times as much, we'll be ten times healthier and live ten times longer, right? It's simple math that we learn as children. And lest anyone worry that Christmas will be an aftershock of goodheartedness and fuzzy feelings, the car companies have the situation under control, reminding everyone that Christmas is really about buying things you don't need, because obviously happiness only comes from materiel goods. Why else would we celebrate buy eating candy, eating turkey, buying presents, eating Easter eggs, and all the rest of the consmer holidays. It's the American spirit, after all.

(For anyone that's worried, this was my first sloppy attempt at satire)

SNOW!

Park City collectively rejoiced this morning as the town woke up to a thick blanket of sparkling, fluffy Utah powder, perfectly matching the opening day of Park City Resort. In a ski town like this one, there is nothing so invigorating or unifying as the first fresh foot that falls from the sky. The streets filled with people going for a walk in the first snow storm of the year, occasionally punctuated with spontaneous snowball skirmishes or snow angels in the roads. It wasn't until the families started to head back for home that the true gravity of the situation started to pile up faster than the little flakes. Snow meant winter. Obviously the main attraction of winter is skiing or boarding, and this excitement is what brought on the celebrations. But skiing isn't so simple. For those who were caught off guard, as it is easy to do, all of a sudden the lack of skies, fitting clothes, passes, and plans started to sink in. Especially for teens, winter can be the most trying season of the year. The need for equipment entails a need for money, or some very generous parents. Although it's always worth it, breaking open that piggy bank to pick up a pass, or shelling out a year's savings for new skis is hardly pleasant. Along with the dough drain, there's just the plain work. School starts to pick up, and weekends become more and more busy, just as kids finally have something to do on the weekends. Shoveling and snow blowing also help add a new set of chores. Driving in the winter weather means snow tires, longer trips, cautionary warnings from parents every time you leave the house. The combined pressure of all these is incredibly poorly timed, because the time you really want to spend all day everyday on the mountain is the same time you have the most other obligations to attend to. But hey, you'll still find time to go enjoy that fresh snow, and that's all that matters.

Carrying Plastic

As teens go through leaps and bounds towards "freedom," (or at least being an adult, as it is in question how free they actually are), one of the big steps along the way is that first bank account equipped with a magical plastic card that let's you buy things without money. Well, not exactly, but it can seem that way. Credit or debit cards can be unbelievably handy, in a few ways. They eliminate that agonizing choice of how much money to carry in the wallet, always trying to balance between having enough to spend and having too much, making you either a spendthrift or paranoid about losing it. With the card, you carry all your money with you, but if disaster does strike, all those caboodles of cash are not instantly gone. With any luck and a phone call or too, you can get another card and get right back to swiping it. It probably also saves you money in the long run. All those countless pennies and dimes that jingle in your pocket, get deposited somewhere and mysteriously disappear now stay safely in your bank account. After maybe 5 purchases, that could be a whole candy bar you're saving. The problem is that it is all to easy to use a card. You don't feel the physical sense of loss as you hand over a wad of cash, and you aren't shocked back to your senses when you open up a sad, empty wallet. Instead, you can blissfully spend all that hard earned dough in a free-fall of careless generosity towards yourself until you suddenly hit the ground with the earth-jarring realization that you just blew your whole stash of cash. So credit cards are really just like anything else: the better it feels or seems the worse it is for you.