I HOPE anyone who pushed, shoved or trampled on someone on Black Friday to get a cheap telly or some other tat is feeling bad about their pathetic behaviour. But I very much doubt it.

We have become a nation of shopping obsessives, so preoccupied with adding to our mass of mood-boosting non-essentials that we’re prepared to administer a black eye to secure the prize.

Big retail is to blame. With a supermarket on every corner once occupied by a family newsagent or a master butcher, we’ve been brainwashed into believing our lives will not be complete without that bargain booty of six bottles of plonk for £25.

I have six supermarkets within a mile of my house. When a large ASDA opened recently – there are two other versions of the store a stone’s throw away - people were queueing around the block to get early bird deals.

Now, I’m all for a bargain – 70 per cent of my clothes are second hand – but waiting in the freezing cold to save a couple of quid on luxuries is not how I want to spend my life. And for anyone who argues that shoppers are driven to such lengths because they’re poor, I’d ask since when has ownership of a flat-screen telly the size of a pool table become a survival issue.

This Saturday is Small Business Saturday UK. It’s a chance to show our appreciation tolocal independent shops who fight a daily battle against big business and their elastic pound promises.

It’s a grassroots, non-political, non-commercial campaign, which highlights small business success and encourages consumers to shop local and support small businesses in their communities. The idea is slowly taking off with more and more people feeling the love for the little man and his attention to the customer’s needs.

I recently started shopping for organic veg at a worker’s co-operative. It is more expensive than your average supermarket, but it’s top quality local produce, tastes amazing and is better for my health. Now, to me, that’s a real deal.

Last week I picked up a gnarly veg which was labelled as turmeric. Having only ever used this fairly common spice dried and in a jar for curries, I asked the girl on the cash desk what I should do with it.

“You can grate it into curries and it’s delicious or you can liquidise it with lemon and fresh ginger, drink it every morning and you’ll never get a cold. I’ve not had one for six years,” she said cheerily.

I’d like to have put that same question to a cashier at one of my many local supermarkets – but sadly they don’t sell fresh turmeric.

If you want buying choice and freedom, then give an independent near you a fighting chance and shop local this Saturday.