CNN reports a temporary Wal-Mart employee was trampled to death in a rush of thousands of early morning shoppers as he and other employees attempted to unlock the doors of a Long Island, New York, store at 5 am this morning. The Wal-Mart worker, whom authorities did not identify, was 34 and lived in Queens, said Nassau County police Detective Lt. Michael Fleming."This was utter chaos as these men tried to open the door this morning," Fleming said (http://edition.cnn.com/2008/US/11/28/black.friday.violence/#cnnSTCVideo).
At what point did people become so voracious to willingly trample a 34 year old man in order to beat the soccer mom next to you? Is Ebay really too hard to navigate that you must stamp the life out of your local salesperson in your flannel pants and bunny slippers in a race to grab the latest robot dinosaur or the latest playskool whatnot; all of which will be broken or forgotten by Valentine's Day?
I really can't believe that that in the midst of this holiday season, a time when we're supposed to at least pretend to be nice to those around us, that we as a people could stoop to such a low level and not even reach down to pull the poor guy up after he was ran over by materialistic mothers and fathers racing to satisfy their children's superficial desires.
Don't get me wrong, I love to shop and buy gifts as much as the next guy, but to run the man over without even looking down to see if he was okay? I would hate to see what happened to the 70 year old man greeting such warm customers, or the mother of six who just wasn't moving fast enough to pull the 'Tickle-me-elmo' off the top shelf.
I hope those parents enjoy giving those gifts on Christmas. I hope they tell their child how hard they worked to get them their new 'Ultimate Bumblebee Transformer.'
"Here you are son; your new 'Nerf' gun I ran some poor sap over to get to remind you of the holiday of giving."
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I hope you enjoy your new 'Barbie Ford Mustang. Mommy is going to go drown here guilt in a little hard eggnog now."
Ten bucks says whatever was worth killing a man for is lost, broken, or forgotten in ten weeks, tops. But I hope everyone remembers the man who no longer has the option to celebrate this terribly malignant season, all so a few soulless shoppers could save a buck.
Merry Christmas, or whatever it is we pretend to honor.
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