Black Friday is a strange thing. I never really understood what it was until very recently from Zack and Miri Make a Porno (good movie btw).
I always liked the idea of buying stuff, but I had to overcome several challenges as a kid. For one, I never had much money of my own since my parents never gave me an allowance so my cash for a year would come from Chinese New Year and my birthday. However, there was my lunch money. I couldn’t save all of it since I didn’t like the idea of starvation (though I did do that in high school to pay for my Junior Prom), but I would skip the milk so that I could keep that extra quarter for myself. The second problem was a little more difficult to overcome. Even with money, I couldn’t spend it in the presence of my parents since they would say that anything I bought was a waste (and they would interrogate me as to where I got the money in the first place). But luckily for me, my parents couldn’t come to school. I had a few friends who would steal stuff from stores, like boxes of candy, trading cards, and porno mags, bring them to school, and sell them to everyone else. There was this Filipino kid who had the hookups for everything. Through him, I got enough Warheads (the sour candy), Pop Rocks, Upper Deck football cards, and pics of hot latina babes with stars over their nipples to satisfy the needs of any 6th grader.
Now I’m off topic. These days, I’m actually pretty careful with my money. I spend on average of $100 a month on BART tickets, gas, beer, and Mexican food. Occasionally, I’ll pick up a computer game or two if they’re on sale. So whether a product on sale or not is probably one of the most important factors that affect whether I buy something or not and I thought I would be able to buy a bunch of cheap stuff on Black Friday. Like stuff I always wanted to get but never did because they were too expensive. I stayed awake most of this long weekend scanning Slickdeals for something I want, but each time I went to buy something, I always backed out at the last minute. Firefly complete season DVDs, $5 computer games from Steam, dress pants and shirts for future possible interviews, a desktop computer so I can play Empire: Total War, gummy bears to… eat… I added so much stuff into random shopping carts each time, but I couldn’t bring myself to punch in my credit card number.
In the end, after all that wasted time on those forums, I just bought a pair of 500gb external portable hard drives from Amazon for $60 each so I can ebay them or something. Next Black Friday, I’m just gonna sleep in.
When I was a kid, I always loved Thanksgiving. While my classmates in elementary school all talked about how much they looked forward to Christmas, I said firmly that Thanksgiving was the best holiday with Chinese New Year coming in a distant second.
It’s not that Christmas was particularly bad, it’s just that Thanksgiving was awesome. My parents didn’t learn how to properly cook a turkey until recently, but I remember loving turkey back in the day just because it relieved the monotony of white rice, collard greens, and stir fry for a day. We would watch football, my cousins would come over from San Francisco, and we would play Oregon Trail (which progressed to Doom, Warcraft II, and Starcraft over the years) without my parents yelling at me.
These days, Thanksgiving is still a good day. I mean my parents make a mean turkey. Nice and juicy, filled with flavor, and tons of sides. We got a mix of Chinese greens, fluffy mashed potatoes, coke-marinated beef, soy sauce roasted baby back ribs, stir fried shrimp with giant leek, cole slaw, lamb bone soup, pumpkin pie, garlic vinegar soda (yuck), and 2 cases of Cornonas. Food is damn good at my house on Thanksgiving.
But there’s this saying that the food is only as good as the company. I mean you can be eating the best food in the world, but if you got Mao, Hitler, and Caligula sitting across from you, that super carne asada burrito with a side of Black Sea sturgeon caviar is gonna taste like shit. I’m not saying I dislike my relatives. They’re just… well, not the typical folk I like to hang out with. One of my uncles is a hardcore conservative and more bigoted than even the standard Chinatown inhabitant after being brainwashed by the Chinese equivalent of Rush Limbaugh. One of my cousins is a lazy bum who, after living in America for 2 years, has yet to find a job, still doesn’t speak a word of English (other than ‘fuck’ and ‘nigger’), and is constantly trying to convince my parents to sponsor his wife over. The rest of my relatives aren’t too bad, just the standard loud, uncivilized Cantonese folk who bring shame to my white-washed sister.
However, there’s no way I’m going to let a couple guys ruin my Thanksgiving dinner. No way. And there is an easy solution to these kinds of things. Beer. And lots of it. We Asian folk being lightweights, it doesn’t take long before everyone is either happy or asleep while me and my 20o pound community college cousin from the ghetto go a few more rounds with a Corono in one hand and a turkey wing in the other. Before you know it, we’re saying goodbye out in front of our house as my relatives pack 7 in a car to get back across the bay.
As a tradition, people always give thanks on Thanksgiving. So yeah, I gotta give my thanks too. First, to my family since, despite us not getting along too well, provide interesting writing material. Second, to all that good food and crispy turkey skin which will last another 2 weeks. And finally, I gotta give mi gracias to la cerveza mas fina, the solution to all of life’s problems.
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