This Black Friday isn’t what it used to be. It wasn’t that long ago that the most dedicated of the sale-hunting ilk would camp out in front of Best Buy or Target or whatever store they thought would have those perfect gifts, just so they could be at the door when it opened, to join the stampede of greed. Black Friday sales dominated the Thursday paper, and even the name itself spoke to the importance the day held for retailers.

Now there aren’t nearly as many retailers. And the newspaper doesn’t even exist anymore, or if it does, nobody reads it. Black Friday is its own season now. There’s no need to camp out when the sales all start a week earlier online, when you can do all your shopping in your pajamas, and when you’re home waiting for the delivery truck to come so the porch pirates don’t steal this year’s collection of gift junk.

It is also a good day to make a turkey sandwich and head outside, somewhere beyond the traffic noise and cell coverage, to walk in the woods or paddle a quiet inlet, and to stop thinking for a little while. Christmas can wait.