Wednesday, November 05, 2003
Paging Mr. Hankey
So let's face it. I haven't written much lately. Not here. Not there. Not anywhere.
I won't duck it. As the cliche goes, "there just aren't enough hours in a day." And with the amount of daylight getting shorter, it just feels more and more like there's less and less time. I mean, I've got a stack of DVDs to watch, some of which aren't even mine. And to top it off, the holiday season is fast approaching.
That's right. The holiday season. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. The time when people everywhere preach goodwill towards mankind. A time when you're supposed to celebrate the best in people, share in the company of loved ones and give thanks for what you have. And yet, ultimately, the holiday season will be measured by how much money is made by the retailers.
What a way to spend the holidays: by fretting that people didn't toss around enough money.
I always find it amusing how the bean counters set the stage for the holidays by discussing how much they expect the average person to spend. By the end of September, those powers that be have already decided that businesses will make or lose money in the upcoming months. This will in turn cause stores to adjust their holiday business plan by reducing or increasing their inventory.
Oddly enough, what actually happens in the months of November and December don't seem to have a bearing on what the economists end up proclaiming. I've been told that few people spent any money the last few holiday seasons and therefore, retailers had to cut back on the amount of goods that they stocked. Well, I guess that explains why me and 50,000 other shoppers fought over the last Chicken Dance Elmo left in stock.
(By the way, the Chicken Dance Elmo was, according to what the media told me back in July, supposed to be the hot toy in that particular year. Why would I believe otherwise?)
This whole phenomena causes my brain to go on the verge of implosion. The conflict in my brain between what I see and what I'm supposed to believe is true (remember, I have to believe whatever the media tells me) provides me with the same sensation that I get when I'm reading in a moving car. Nobody's spending money, which means none of the stores are doing any business, which must mean that nobody's out shopping for anything. So why is it that I can't find a close parking spot at the mall?
So as we approach another holiday season, marked officially by the passing of Halloween, let me raise a toast to my favorite blanket carrying cartoon character, Linus Van Pelt, because he is the only one that I know of who is able to consistently maintain the correct viewpoint on what this time of year is really about.
