Black Friday - To Shop or Not to Shop: David Loftus

Every year the evening news features the same sight: crazed shoppers, flushed with the adrenaline of anticipation or the thrill of success, crowded near the locked doors of a mega-store in the wee hours or streaming through the long lines at the checkout stands, hooting and crowing. Who are these maniacal creatures, my wife and I wonder; what planet are they from? It was only a year ago, Nov. 28, 2008, that 34-year-old Wal-Mart employee Jdimytal Damour was trampled to death, and four other shoppers injured, by such a stampeding mob on Long Island.

We won’t be going out to shop on Black Friday, unless it’s to get an emergency supply of butter or coffee -- just like every other year for the past decade or more. As an officially Jewish household, Christmas has no significance to us. (She’s the converted Jew, I’m the unreconstructed non-believer; since I attend services irregularly and have learned many of the Hebrew prayers, I refer to myself as a “non-practicing atheist.”) Though I come from a huge family and my wife from a smaller one, the next generation on both sides is tiny: one nephew, grown, on hers and one niece in the fifth grade on mine. We might buy each other a couple nice things in December (or maybe not), and something for my niece and mother, who live 286 miles away, but those are more easily ordered online and mailed directly rather than requiring a foray into the retail jungle.

Living as we do, childless in a 667-square-foot urban apartment, we don’t particularly want any more things. For every item we acquire, we have to get rid of one or two others; better not to get anything more in the first place. Our families know we don’t need or expect anything from them, and the best gift is a meal out or a small travel adventure.

As for the Mongol hordes, every indication is that numbers will be down, but not for everybody. Discount giants such as Costco and Wal-Mart have fared well through the recession and will probably do well this week, too. Americans are shopping (a little) smarter, and that’s a good thing, I suppose. (Although my local coffee shop is already piping in Christmas music, dammit. The first place to stick to cool jazz or light classical -- or NO MUSIC AT ALL; just imagine that! -- gets all my business for the next month. . . .)