I read President Abe Lincoln’s Thanksgiving
Proclamation of 1864 this morning and am kind of in awe that it took 89 years
to recognize and establish a federal holiday accepting the now traditional day
of thanks established by the Pilgrims and their native neighbors. Other presidents gave annual proclamations of
thanks but good ol’ Abe gave us a day off.
What’s also awe
inspiring, and curious, is the language used. I don’t think I’ve ever used ‘vouchsafing’ in a
sentence before but I’m adapting it into my regular vocabulary. Good enough for
Abe, good enough for me. Yes, I call him Abe because he and I were that close.
“It has pleased
Almighty God to prolong our national life another year, defending us with His
guardian care against unfriendly designs from abroad and vouchsafing to us in
His mercy many and signal victories over the enemy, who is of our own household.”
Unfriendly designs from a broad? Who was this guy, Nostradamus?
Signal victories over the enemy, who is of our own
household? Did Abe know of my future dishwasher and toaster-oven woes? (You really have to read all the posts to keep up
folks - nudge, nudge, wink, wink.)
My
buddy Abe dideth proclaimeth “… a return
of the inestimable blessings of peace, union, and harmony throughout the land …"
It’s a good read folks but I’m not
here to speak of proclamations, I’m here to speak of Fridays, specifically dark
Fridays, so dark we’ve colored them black. I can remember a time when Fridays
were Good (despite the connection to gruesome yet Holy death). I can remember a
time when we thanked God for Fridays, back before we franchised it into mediocre
appetizers and entrees delivered by overly-flared waitstaff wishing they were
as attractive and successful as Jennifer Aniston (Office Space - classic movie reference).
Now Friday is just the bleak
beginning to the holiday rush which draws black ink into the ledgers of retail
chains who routinely operate in the red. Friday’s overwhelming darkness is so dark
it has crept all the way into Thanksgiving Thursday. The afore-mentioned federally recognized day of blessings-countings is being consumed by the ebony teeth of
consumerism.
The local mall has chosen to open
its doors this Thanksgiving evening to get a head start over other outlets in
the quest to swallow your wallet like a black hole swallows a planet.
And what has all this got to do
with Invasive Maneuvers?
Well, our young daughter, who is
still in recuperative phase from her previous surgical invasion, will be missing
the family dinner in order to feed the blackened panther which preys upon our
need to save while overspending. She will be working at that mall in her black
apron (almost nearly all black) handing out sweets like the witch in Hansel and Gretel, luring
unsuspecting patrons into the dark ovens of the retail abyss.
For goodness sake! Don’t be
tempted. It’s a trick. Don’t take her candy. Don’t go into the light! (Beware,
another movie reference!) I vouchsafe that it is not safe!
Black Friday is upon us! “Do not go
gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.” (Even
worse a literary reference, ugh!)
And, Happy Black Shopping Till You're Dropping Day!
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