Dear Retailers,
I am not pleased with you. You have taken the Christmas creep way too far. In fact, it is no longer a creep. It is a hijacking.
Let me tell you a little story:
I was going through my Tuesday night routine of watching Glee and folding laundry, happy as could be that my daughter was asleep (well, in bed and quiet), my dogs were not barking and I had the house to myself. I was particularly happy because this was the first episode that featured one of the winners ofThe Glee Project (don’t judge me) AND he had just sang “It Isn’t Easy Being Green” (have I mentioned that I am a fan obsessed with The Muppets? No? I need to address that at some point). Then. It happened.
A freaking Christmas commercial came on! I am not kidding. It was a Christmas commercial from WalMart, and gender stereotypes aside, it was horrific. Halloween just ended not 24 hours before and you’re paying for Christmas advertising?! It’s an atrocity on so many levels. You’ve committed so many offenses from this it’s hard to pick just one. And that is that you’ve now stolen my Thanksgiving.
Yup. I said it. You’ve stolen Thanksgiving from me. And I want it back. In case you’re forgetting what Thanksgiving is—since that’s what you’ve clearly demonstrated based on your advertising and in-store displays—let me remind you that it’s the time of year we’re supposed to sanitize the relationship between the Native Americans and the Pilgrims and celebrate them coming together over turkeys and cornucopias. But it’s more than that. November is supposed to be the time between Halloween and Christmas (and Hanukkah) where we take a moment to actually enjoy our lives and attempt to be thankful for what we have. Which you have now made impossible by assailing us with your nonstop advertising for Black Friday deals and Christmas sales.
You have now made Thanksgiving the gateway holiday to Black Friday. Thanksgiving used to be a holiday unto itself. We would learn the story of Thanksgiving, classrooms would be full of traditional, handmade Thanksgiving projects, and relish in the fact that we got two days off (I still do this, actually). Sadly, Thanksgiving is now lost in the shuffle of its very expensive cousin–Black Friday. No longer do we hear about the wonderfulness of Thanksgiving. Now we are bombarded with Black Friday deals instead. Retailers are rushing us past a day of turkey and stuffing in order to ensure that we’re all aware of their midnight shopping specials. Thanksgiving is now something we need to get through in order to shop.
And how dare you remove all Thanksgiving décor from your stores? It is impossible to walk into a store and find anything even remotely related to Thanksgiving. For years, I have been looking for Thanksgiving decorations–which used to appear in abundance when I was a kid–to put around my house. Now? I can’t find one unless it’s some hideous turkey that looks like it belongs in a horror movie instead of my living room. I want to decorate my house, not scare my pets.
I know, by now you’re thinking that you’re not entirely to blame for hijacking my Thanksgiving. You’re right. TV and radio do hold their share of accountability. Not only because they accept your advertising dollars but because they too have bought (literally) into the Christmas creep. Imagine my disappointment when The Grinch Who Stole Christmas was running on November 5th? Really, November 5th? What’s next—showing A Christmas Story on Veteran’s Day? And please don’t get me started on the radio stations that are playing Christmas music 24/7 starting the day after Thanksgiving (in fact, where I live, I think some might have started that already).
But mainly, retailers, I blame you. You have stolen Thanksgiving from me and everyone else. I do understand that you may be wondering where my anger towards you is coming from. After all, I should understand that you’re just business trying to make money in a depressed economy, right? Wrong. I think that’s bullshit. And I’ve been patient with you up until now. But I’m done.
I want my Thanksgiving back! And if you can’t help me, I’ll make it happen myself. I may not be artistic or creative but I can outline my hand on construction paper, glue feathers to it and make a turkey. I can still have my delicious Thanksgiving dinner with my family, even if the dinner doesn’t look like a photo shoot (Martha Stewart, I blame you for this phenomenon). I will refuse to go shopping on Black Friday and Cyber Monday, and even refuse to discuss or promote your sales. I will find a picture of a cornucopia to hang on my wall (thank you, Internet).
You can try to hide Thanksgiving from me. But like a bloodhound, I’ll sniff it out, find it, and bring it back.
Just try to stop me.