For ten days, I was internally fretting about Michael Vick and the Philadelphia Eagles coming to town and doing horrible things to the Chicago Bears. Either my fretting was for naught OR my fretting was powerful and caused ripples in the Universe that made the Eagles lose. Or maybe with ten days to rest up, the Bears just outplayed the Eagles, giving the Bears a victory in a 31-26 game.
Let's look at some facts, y'all. Jay Cutler was sacked four times but Michael Vick was sacked four times. And the Bears won. Each of the teams went into the contest with three wins in a row. And the Bears won and now they have four consecutive wins. Who doesn't? Philadelphia, y'all.
To put it all in perspective, it looks like some nice January ball might be played in the frozen north, i.e. here. Have you ever been to Chicago in January? Sometimes it never gets above freezing the entire month. If I could have a wish for January it would be (1) we get some playoff action and (2) we play guys who just left 75-degree weather and forgot their long johns at home and (3) are so cold they can't toss, run, kick, or catch. That is my January wish.
The day after Thanksgiving is Black Friday here in the US, so called because it is the day retailers finally get their accounting books into the black. It is also the Sport of Kings, when the kings and queens of retail acquisition get up at oh-dark-thirty, get in line at stores, and wait for doors to open so they can BUY! We never did anything like this when we were children, but my sister and I have embraced the tradition and look forward to it.
On Thanksgiving Day, my sister and brother-in-law cook and I bring over two newspapers. We scan the circulars and determine our plan of attack.
I fetch my sibling in my 1998 Honda Civic at 5:30am (sometimes earlier). We never get the big-ticket items everyone else is trying to buy. We look for the $3 mixers, the complete third season of The Big Bang Theory, and winter gloves that are reduced by 60% until 11a.m. We are doorbusters but we don't hold the actual battering ram of commerce. We follow in the second wave, the wave of wallet-wielders wanting wares. We get the quilts, the frying pans, the cheap gift wrap. We save a bundle, stuff the car, and then we have breakfast.
This year offered an interesting twist. I woke up at 3:30 and could not get back to sleep. On the television there was only Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy's tale of misery, unhappiness, and zero laughs so I got dressed and went to Target for the 4 a.m. opening.
I was in the store by 4:05 a.m. and missed out on the $3 hand mixers. Where those mixers were stacked now stood only a sign and four $3 toasters. There were dwindling numbers of $28 vacuums. The $1.50 towels, while thin, were also quite thinned out. In the Sport of Kings, I am a low-level countess or maybe a court jester. My sister and I scored some great personal-victory bargains all the same and I look forward to participating again next year.