Column: Memories of Shopping on Black Friday

Dear readers,

Ah, Black Friday — once a gladiatorial contest, now a tranquil clickathon from the comfort of my recliner.

Everything can now be ordered on a computer and delivered right to your door. Or maybe a neighbor’s door, depending on the delivery driver’s address reading ability. 

Like most things, shopping on Black Friday was much more exciting in the good old days. Let's take a stroll down memory lane, back to the days when Black Friday was more intense than a championship wrestling match.

Picture it: dawn breaking over the horizon, a sea of tents outside Walmart as determined shoppers braved the cold night for a shot at that year's Holy Grail of holiday gifts.

Camping outside the store, fueled by caffeine and camaraderie, shoppers swapped war stories of previous Black Friday battles. By dawn, the atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. You could hear the hushed whispers of tactics, the kind normally reserved for military operations, as shoppers plotted their routes through the store. The seasoned veterans knew every aisle like the back of their hand, ready to sprint, weave, and duck to snatch their prize.

The doors would swing open and it was like the running of the bulls in Pamplona. It was every man for himself. One year I narrowly avoided a collision with a sprinting teenager who was eyeing something in sporting goods. I was on a mission to get the toy that ended up being in greatest demand in the history of toys. Of course, I am talking about Tickle Me Elmo.

I was much younger and in better shape back then. I felt a little guilty as I snatched the last Elmo off the shelf just before a very petite grandmother could grab it.

I didn’t feel guilty for long. Despite her seemingly frail appearance, grandma wrestled the Tickle Me Elmo doll from my grip with the tenacity of a seasoned pro. Looking around to make sure no one I knew had witnessed my poor performance, I made a quick exit. 

Later I would buy Trent a hat and pair of gloves for Christmas. I figured it was for the best. Playing outside would be healthier anyway.

Tickle Me Elmo was just the latest in a long line of must have toys.  Years ago it was Weebles  — those wobbly little characters that were impossible to knock over.

In the early '80s it was the Cabbage Patch Kids, each with its own unique (and slightly terrifying) face, sparking riots in toy stores nationwide.

1985 brought a tie with Teddy Ruxpin, the story-telling bear that was equal parts charming and creepy, and Pictionary, a game destined to start family arguments over someone's lack of drawing skills.

1988's Nintendo Entertainment System became the focal point of every child's holiday wish list, its iconic grey and red design now a symbol of childhood nostalgia.

1989 followed up with the Game Boy, sparking battles for the last handheld console on the shelf.

Fast forward to the mid-'90s, and it was all about the Beanie Babies — those tiny, bean-filled creatures that somehow became more valuable than gold.

And who could forget 1998's Furby, the bizarre, owl-like creatures that spoke their own language and terrified parents in the middle of the night when they randomly woke up speaking?

Today, Black Friday has transformed into a much more civilized, though arguably less exciting, experience. Now, instead of wrestling with strangers, we wrestle with slow internet connections and the terror of realizing the promo code we saved doesn't work at checkout. Instead of camping outside stores, we camp out in front of our laptops, armed with credit cards and a dream.

So, as we click our way through this year's Black Friday deals, let's take a moment to remember the good old days — the adrenaline, the camaraderie, the sheer absurdity of it all. And maybe, just maybe, we'll smile a little brighter knowing we survived the era of the great Black Friday battles.

See you all next week, same Schwinn time, same Schwinn channel.

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