Black Friday Blues

Black Friday, Ogden to Salt Lake City Blues I spent most of Black Friday biking around northern Utah, taking pictures and recording videos with my daughter’s Flipcam. A steam train was scheduled to arrive and my plan was to record it, then catch the Front Runner to Salt Lake City.

Unfortunately, the program crashed when I tried to download the mp4s. All but one of the clips were deleted. The steam train, the 40-minute ride along the snow-capped Wasatch Front, and shopping season scenes of Salt Lake City became nothing but lost data. This is what remains.

Words & pictures copyright 2011 Bob Sawatzki

I stopped on the footbridge over the Ogden River and leaned on the railing to take a picture. Just then, a guy pulled up in a little red car. Climbing out of his car, he walked toward me with his hands in his coat pockets.

“That’s just what I was going to do,” he said, pulling out his camera.

Back on my wheels, I rolled through the cenetery down Gold Star Drive, heading toward town. Made it as far as the Occupy Ogden encampment and decided I should stop by to say hi.

Occupy Ogden Black Friday, 2011

“It’s already eleven,” the man grunted into the mike. He looked like an Okie out of a Great Depression movie, but with modern media in his grubby hand.

There was a burst of static on the speaker, then a scratchy voice saying, “Okay, they’re getting the vans.”

The Okie said he expected about a hundred people to show up for the protest. “They call it Black Friday, but for us every day is Black Friday.”

There were about twenty colorful tents around the Unitarian Church and inside the main white plastic shelter an old grizzled dude was talking via two-way radio powered by a car battery. Next to him

a young fellow was eating a sandwich and, in a electric wheelchair, a third person huddled under blankets.

“Yeah, looks like we’re marching on Wal-Mart at eleven,” said the grizzled dude into his microphone.

I looked at my watch and said, “It’s eleven now!”

I told them I worked at the library and many of us wondered what they were doing for basic needs. “Do the Unitarians let you use their facilities for washing and cooking?” I said. “Can you use their bathrooms?”

The wheelchair person turned to get a look at me and I could she was a woman.

“We have porta-potties,” said the Okie.

“There are some people letting us use their homes,” said the woman.

“I know some Unitarians, but I don’t know if they’ll let you inside the church,” I said. “Too bad you don’t have any connections with the Mormons.

You’d be all set. Disaster relief is what Mormons do best.”

I was getting back up on my wheels and waving goodbye. There was a train I had to catch.

“They’re the one-percent,” said the old guy. “We’re the ninety-nine percent.”

Shoulders hunched, and turning away, he spoke with no conviction, reciting a mantra without seeming to believe.

When I got off the Frontrunner, the first thing I did was bike up to Wasatch Outfitters to buy new bindings for my skis. The store was remarkably calm. Just a few shoppers and a dad with two kids in tow picking up a bike his wife had ordered for a Christmas present.

I got a great pair of Voile Mountaineer 3pin bindings for $50 from a young, scruffy-looking fellow who was running the store by himself.

I had to wait 10 minutes to pay, but I didn’t mind. I picked up a copy of Utah Adventure Journal and was reading an article with directions to Maple Grove Hot Springs.

“Where’s everybody else?” I said, when the fellow finally had time to get to the cash register. “Didn’t they get the e-mail about today being Black Friday?”

“They’re probably out shopping,” the

to a big screen iPad.

“So do you have a name you want to call this movie?”, he said patiently.

“Yes,” I said. “Let’s call it Apple Madness.”

young dude said, unpeturbed. “I’d rather be here.”

It was all downhill from there to the Apple Store. A media specialist helped me download a file from the Flipcam