Black Friday turns really dark

I got sick to my stomach reading about the poor Wal-Mart worker who was trampled to death on Friday as shoppers literally busted down the doors.

An article about the death in the Times suggested that with the sour economy, people are panicked about not having enough, that this behavior isn't surprising. To a certain extent, I could understand if the shoppers had been waiting all night in a bread line and they were desperate to get food for their starving families. But to buy toys and TVs? Really??

Are we such a materialistic society that the potential to save money on extravagances we don't need could cause us to kill someone? This isn't about survival. But do Americans know the difference?

A section of this Times story seems to capture the compulsion to spend:
Some shoppers who had seen the stampede said they were shocked. One of them, Kimberly Cribbs of Queens, said the crowd had acted like “savages.” Shoppers behaved badly even as the store was being cleared, she recalled.
“When they were saying they had to leave, that an employee got killed, people were yelling, ‘I’ve been on line since yesterday morning,’ ” Ms. Cribbs told The Associated Press. “They kept shopping.”

John and I have been in Manhattan for more than two years. We sold off so much stuff before we moved, and we continue to take trip after trip to Goodwill to cast off things we don't need or don't have room for.

Living in 695 square feet helps you get clarity about what's a necessity. Honestly, only a handful of times have I missed anything we've gotten rid of, and much more frequently we've looked around and realized that some of what we've kept is just clutter.

Maybe the reason the Wal-Mart incident is so appalling to me is that our forced minimalism gives me no empathy for someone desperate for a third television. Spend some time living with no basement, no garage, no attic, no storage room, really having to be among every item you own, and you develop a different view of the clutter in your life.

Meanwhile, I recently read a heart-warming column in Oprah's O Magazine. An Irish author talked about how her favorite gifts were time -- whether it was a favor by a friend or a hand-written letter, something that really meant something as a connection between the giver and the recipient.

I tried and failed to find an online link for the article, called Acts of Friendship, but one of my favorite anecdotes involved two women who each hated a particular domestic chore. I think one hated ironing and the other hated mending clothes, so once a week they'd get together and the one who hated ironing would mend the other's clothes and the one who hated mending would iron.

Isn't that the greatest gift? Spending time with someone you like AND rescuing her from something she hates?

We're also aware that many of our favorite people are nervously watching the economy to figure out what it means for them. We have loved ones back in Michigan who draw their paychecks directly and indirectly from the automakers, and who earn their living from construction, both of which are shaky these days. Not that working for a university or a school district is bullet proof when tax dollars are shrinking ... really, we're all a little vulnerable.

When you add all this up, what does it mean?

Bottom line: we would love it if you didn't buy us anything for Christmas.

I know, Christmas gifts are an expression of love and friendship. I still greedily want your love and friendship. I just don't need you to get trampled at Wal-Mart to do that.

So here's my alternative Christmas wish list:
1. Come visit us -- come to New York, if you don't live here. It's a great city and we love sharing it with friends. If you do live here, come over for dinner and a night of playing Taboo or Rumikub or something.
2. Write me a letter -- a real pen and ink, put it in an envelope with a stamp letter. I have always loved getting real mail (I think it goes back to the Dr. Seuss book club my mom enrolled me in) and it would be a treat to get a letter from a friend. Tell me about what's on your mind, or a favorite memory you have with me or us, or something you're dreaming of.
3. Donate to a charity -- City Harvest needs help feeding people, Best Friends is a no-kill animal shelter that helps animals all over the country, World Wildlife Fund tries to protect our environment ... or find a well-run charity that serves a mission you believe in.

Of course if you'd like to follow the example from O magazine and come over to do some ironing, you're more than welcome. I'd even swap you a lesson on how to use Blogger or Twitter or something if you want. Or I'd cook you some vegetarian spaghetti. Or I can edit your resume.

Anything that doesn't involve busting down the doors at Wal-Mart.