Opinion : \'Twas the morning after Thanksgiving

'Twas the morn after Thanksgiving, and all through the house,

The creatures are snoring, probably even the mouse.

The tree is all set, with lights all aglow,

And I am now thinking about presents that will go down below.

With a glance at the clock, and the dog by my side, 

It's only half past 2, so alone I'll abide.

All is peaceful, all is calm, except on the TV, with those at the mall.

The people are crazy, and some even shot, 

In this quest for some goods as part of this Friday, black rot.

As I reflect on my day, and the family I visited with, 

I find myself angry with the media's pitch.

"Run out to your store, come buy our goods while they're cheap,

Ignore the turkey dinner, and your needed beauty sleep."

While the aunt and the cousins, were working (at a store I am starting to abhor),

This tiny bit of back bone, wants to start a cold war.

To those huge box stores, with their money on show,

They often forget where my family would much rather go.

To the annual dinner, with their kin round the table,

I fear will again this will become just an old fable.

As I flip through the channels of 2,7, and 9,

I stop at my favorite, old shows, they are mine.

With a glimpse in the past, of Christmas so simple, 

No gimmicks, no ads, no dives for a Kindle.

How I miss those days, when with humans we'd interact,

Not the computer, or shopping or those things so abstract.

We would cling to our families and the folks that we love, 

Now we are animals who kick, push and shove.

Forgetting the reason for the seasons we share,

We'd better be cautious, and start to give a care.

It's a time to say, "Thanks!" to the one up above, 

Not stand in line and do it kind of, well, a little, sort of.

As I wonder the kind of things our kids will remember, 

of the holidays, the rush, the shopping and the vendors.

Will they sit as I do, near the half century mark,

And wonder what it was like, as they sit in a car park?

Will they yearn for a time never seen, never had

When they could simply relax, instead of go mad?

Will they know how life was, when it was slow and simple,

When words conjure up memory, like the little word "jingle"

As the morning breaks and my eyes start to droop,

I think for our families, it's time to regroup.

Shop all year, just to find that great bargain,

And on holidays tell the stores to keep all their jargon.

Say to them now, say it to their face,

We want our families here, sitting next to their plate,

Not at your store, its a national disgrace.

Give our families back, take them back to our table.

Stop the madness now, give me back my aunt Mable.