From Black Friday to Pitch Black January

In case you wanted to know, or even cared; the origins of the term ‘Black Friday’ are varied and widely disputed.

The simplest theory is that it was so named because it’s the first official day of the holiday shopping season. Retail merchants in the old days would use red ink in the ledger books to denote losses, and black ink to denote profits. When the shopping began in earnest, usually the Friday after Thanksgiving, merchants could gleefully switch to black ink, and use it for the rest of the year.

Also floating around is the story that it began with a highly respected department store floor walker named Mr. Black, who died on that Friday in 1964. As all anniversaries eventually become excuses for door buster sales and newspaper inserts that fall out in your lap, Black Friday joined President’s Day, Memorial Day, and all the rest in offering low, low prices and easy layaway plans.

The earliest reference to the term ‘Black Friday’ has its roots in Philadelphia. From a New York Times article dated November 29, 1975: “Philadelphia police and bus drivers call it ‘Black Friday’ - that day each year between Thanksgiving Day and the Army-Navy game. It is the busiest shopping and traffic day of the year.”

Whatever its genesis, for most of us, Black Friday is the first day of the holiday siege.

From now until the end of the year, we’ll be bombarded day and night by fat men in red suits, deliberately annoying holiday-themed commercial jingles, and Nat “King” Cole’s ‘The Christmas Song’ over and over in an endless loop until our ears bleed.

And then there are the lights – thousands upon thousands of lights which seemingly appear from nowhere - twinkling inside and outside every home, encircling every tree, and strung across telephone wires in neighborhoods from the poorest to the most affluent.

Allow me to play the Grinch here, breaking up your holiday cheer and goodwill toward men for a moment to propose the following nightmare scenario: After nearly two months of burning all those pretty lights 24 hours a day, and your increased use of the kitchen appliances from preparing all those holiday meals, sometime in January you get your electric bill from PECO.

Admit it. At the mere mention of the name, your blood ran cold for a second there.

You know the bill is coming, and you know it’s going to hurt.

It may also interest you to know that on January 1, 2011, PECO Energy’s rate caps will expire. You don’t have to be an economist to figure out what happens when regulators end the restrictions on how much a company can charge its customers. You’ll find out for sure, though, when you open that electric bill.

Fortunately, there is hope. OK, it’s only a dim, faraway glimmer of hope, but hope nonetheless.

Utility monopolies like PECO get a distribution fee for the cost of maintaining the infrastructure, but customers can comparison shop for another company that generates the actual electricity, which accounts for up to 60 percent of your electric bill.

About a dozen alternative electricity suppliers are offering discounts up to 10 percent off PECO's 2011 supply rates. Those companies are now actively targeting the Philadelphia area, looking to peel off as many disgruntled PECO customers as possible. You may have already gotten a flyer or phone call from one of them, offering to save you $10 a month off your electric bill. Some offer fixed rates and even discounts for seniors and veterans.

The cost of generating the electricity, and the number you should shop around for is the price-to-compare (PTC). After January 1, PECO's PTC for residential customers will be 9.92 cents per kilowatt hour, kicking up again in April to 10.16 cents. Some of the alternative suppliers are promising PTC’s between 8 and 9 cents. Of course, PECO still gets their 5.96 cents per kilowatt hour distribution charge, and their $7.25 monthly customer charge, no matter which supplier you choose.

Even in the best case scenario, switching suppliers will probably save you no more than a few bucks per year, a fact I’m sure PECO would quickly point out. But these days, every dollar counts.

So go ahead and get merry. Spend money like a drunken sailor, stuff your turkey and stuff your stockings, and light up your entire property like a Las Vegas casino.

January’s coming.

Jim Crow and Jack Daniels

Let’s be honest and admit one thing up front – there are at least as many bars as there are churches in Philadelphia, and both tend to practice a sort of self-imposed segregation. There’s an old saying that Sunday at 11 AM is the most segregated hour in America, and to some extent that’s true. It is similarly true if you extend that to Happy Hour on any given Friday.

Philly really does have White bars, Black bars, Latino bars and Asian bars. Go into one, and you’ll know immediately. While very few are openly hostile to outsiders, and you can have a quiet drink in just about any tavern if you pay your tab and mind your business, there is often an undeniable sense of not belonging – and that all the other patrons are watching you closely.

It is also true that there are a growing number of multicultural, multiethnic bars in the city. There you’ll see people of all races, ages, and ethnicities mingling and enjoying each others company – but I suspect these places are more the exception than the rule.

I’ve never been to McFadden’s Bar on North 3rd Street in Old City, the subject of this week’s media buzz. A bartender has sued the establishment on the basis of racial discrimination, contending that management willfully contrived to keep African-American patrons away. The bar’s lawyers, quite naturally, vigorously deny the allegations.

At issue in the lawsuit – and the bar’s response - are two main points, and both must be addressed to see the big picture.

First, that the bar’s “Alternative Wednesday’s” a weekly promotion run by an African-American party promoter and which attracted a mostly young, African-American crowd – was bringing with it a bad element.

Neighbors complained of hip-hop blaring from cars in the parking lot while young Blacks loitered, openly smoked weed and loudly disturbed the peace. Police had to be called several times, there were isolated incidents of violence, and the bar stopped the promotion.

OK, that’s fair enough – no bar owner wants his establishment labeled a ‘nuisance bar’, and most take steps to avoid that designation.

But that doesn’t explain the text messages, allegedly sent from one McFadden’s manager to another regarding dropping the Alternative Wednesday promotion that "We don't want black people, we are a white bar!"

Not “we don’t want the criminal element”, or even “we don’t want troublemaking thugs”, but “We don’t want black people”. There is a huge difference – unless you’re a racist.

Interestingly, while a McFadden’s spokesperson did call the text message “offensive and reprehensible”, and suspended the manager pending an investigation, no mention of the text was made in their official response to the lawsuit.

Instead, the response focused mainly on the other possibly discriminatory issue, and the one more easily addressed: the dress code.

McFadden’s instituted a dress code that prohibits baggy pants, baseball hats, work boots, plain white t-shirts, hoodies, athletic jerseys, and visible gold chains. They deny this policy is aimed at any particular race or demographic, but is an honest effort to keep the place upscale.

To be fair, I have visited quite a few Black bars with similar ‘no hoodies or saggy pants’ dress restrictions displayed, and I’m confident the purpose was not to keep out Black people, but to single out potential troublemakers.

I’m not sure the same holds true for McFadden’s.

For many narrow-minded types, the above restrictions constitute exactly what Black people wear, and therefore if you keep out Blacks, you keep out trouble. That idea is not only discriminatory, it is laughably stupid. Proof of this can be found at the bar’s other location.

While I have never visited the McFadden’s in Old City, I have been to the one attached to Citizen’s Bank Park. The McFadden’s at the ball park doesn’t have a dress code, and indeed, just about everyone in the place is wearing a team jersey or ball cap – despite the fact that very few of the bar’s patrons are ethnic minorities. It is, however, often crammed with rowdy, drunken white guys, many of whom are overflowing with testosterone and ready to fight.

David Sale Jr., a 22-year old from Lansdale, found that out in July 2009 when he was beaten to death in the parking lot following a dispute in McFadden's. Since none of Sale’s assailants were Black or Brown, it’s hard to argue effectively that keeping out minorities keeps out trouble.

If you want to attract certain people to your bar, change the drink prices, change the songs on the jukebox, or change the atmosphere.

First though, you might want to change your attitude.

Time Marches Backward

Unlike many of my friends and colleagues, I have managed to take several positive notes out of the public whupping Democrats took this week, both in Pennsylvania and across the nation.

Yes, I know the governor’s mansion and state legislature have dramatically changed hands; ditto the U.S. House. And yes, I have watched the emergence of the Tea Party in wide-eyed horror at their blatant racism and obsession with marching America back in time.

They seem blissfully unaware that the good old days of the early 20th century were only good if you were white and rich. Or perhaps they are fully aware, and don’t care. Their new leader, freshly minted U.S. Senator Rand Paul of Kentucky, has publicly stated his belief that private business owners should have the right to discriminate against whomever they’d like, and for whatever reason they’d like.

This decidedly Libertarian stance is based on the theory that the free market will regulate itself; and business owners would rather take the money from minorities, or gays, or whomever “the others” happen to be, than see it go to their competitors.

Only someone who has never been a minority, or gay, or an “other” could spout this nonsense with a straight face.

But back to my positive notes.

First, most of the truly certifiable lunatics of the Tea Party; those wild banshees whose views are slightly to the right of Genghis Khan, have gone down to defeat.

Foaming-at-the-mouth Carl Palladino in New York would have turned unused prison space into dorms where welfare recipients could learn personal hygiene. That hideous gargoyle Sharron Angle of Nevada’s next elected position will probably be Grand Dragon of the KKK. California’s Meg Whitman was a cartoonishly self-involved villain straight out of a James Bond movie – all she needed was a facial scar and a white cat. And our own homegrown train wreck, Delaware’s Christine O’Donnell, somehow surpassed even Sarah Palin in her ability to dig a deeper hole of stupidity with every word she uttered.

If any of these people had been elected to the high offices they sought, their states may have never recovered.

Instead, and this is actually another positive – the GOP wave represents a new group of politicians who don’t necessarily like their own party’s leadership or direction. Presumptive Speaker of the House John Boehner, he of the perpetually orange tan, will have his hands full with new members who are not beholden to party leaders, and take great pride in their general lack of intelligence and political savvy.

Here in Pennsylvania, the people have elected as Governor Tom Corbett, who quickly embraced New Jersey’s bombastic, union-busting Chris Christie as his hero and role model.

I rather doubt Corbett has the stomach, or the ability, to mount a genuine slash-and-burn administration like Christie has, or show Christie’s willingness to debate toe-to-toe with his critics. Sure, he won’t mind giving massive tax breaks to gas drillers at Marcellus Shale, but he’d rather not have to explain it in detail – least of all to poor Pennsylvanians.

But it might be fun to watch him try.

I say “fun” strictly from the position of a newspaper columnist whose livelihood often depends on mocking the folly of elected officials. On this score, given his tendency for a big fat gaffe or faux pax every third sentence, Corbett is almost a sure bet. If you’re a public employee, or a pensioner, or a teacher, or currently unemployed, it won’t be much fun at all.

If Christie is his model governor, stand by for cuts that threaten public education and public safety, with the pain spread evenly among the middle class and the poor. Say goodbye to health care reform, and hello to record insurance industry profits. Sure, state taxes will go down, but the spike in your local property taxes will more than make up the difference. And get ready for the long march backward to the days of fewer state regulations to protect coal miners in western Pennsylvania, or to punish environmental polluters here in the east.

I say let Corbett have his chance. Let him stand in front of the electorate and make his case to turn sick and poor people out into the street, while handing the keys to the store to Big Oil and Big Insurance.

Let him explain why 2010 is starting to look more like 1930.

This week’s election speaks truth to my favorite quote by H.L. Mencken, “Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.”