RN: I know I'm going to come off as a hater, but honestly: What is it with Black Friday? The mourning-like name, for starters. It's creepy.
CP: I dunno. Every year my nephew and nieces try to convince me to wake up obscenely early and go to Shopko -- they live in Green Bay -- to get something we don't know we need for $1.27. And every year we just sleep in on Friday.
RN: Same here. I've never understood the compulsion to camp out in a parking lot in the dead of night, in sub-freezing temperatures, in order to grab a Blu-ray disc of "Notting Hill" for $2.99. Seasons greetings, right?
CP: Just because you're rich and can afford to pay full retail.
RN: Oh, please. Although if this is how you find out that my salary is exponentially larger than yours, well, so be it.
CP: Me, I love the thought of snapping up a 15-year supply of ibuprofen and a 79-cent printer, even if I may have to trample some slower, smaller shoppers along the way.
RN: To each his own. You want to jump low hurdles through Kmart at 5 a.m., have at it, with my blessings. My beef is with the corporations ruining their employees' holiday by opening on Thanksgiving night. Toys 'R' Us is starting at 9 p.m. Wal-Mart isn't flipping the switch until 10, while midnight is the witching hour for Best Buy, Target and Macy's.
CP: Look at you go, with the research and reporting.