Monday, December 07, 2009

tim mcgraw? oh yeah. tim mcgraw...

After an bizarre day at work and with the interior of my home covered in painter's tarps (tarps? Do we call them tarps?), I decided to take myself to see The Blind Side. Or as Brock calls it, the black Hope Floats. In this (very feel good, based on a true story) film, a wealthy white family led by a no nonsense Sandra Bullock takes in a homeless black kid. Needless to say, thanks in large part to Sandra's plain-spoken, designer-clad compassion, said black kid ends up in the NFL.
I spent most of the movie wishing I was more like Sandra Bullock, puttin' my hands on my hips and sayin', "Well, you'll live with me. It's settled then."
Of course, on my drive home, with tears still streaming down my face, I passed a homeless gentleman. As I stopped at a red light, he said, "Merry Christmas."
I am not married to Tim McGraw who owns 85 Taco Bells, as Sandra was in The Blind Side. But I have a cute little flat with extra sheets and towels. I have every condiment under the sun and two bathrooms. I've even got a washer and a dryer. Was this man some sign from God that I'm supposed to invite Merry Christmas Homeless Guy into my dented Honda and take him home, to feed him and let him sleep on my couch? How does one know when to extend the dramatic hand of charity?
Needless to say, Mr. Bojangles is not helping himself to my stash of frozen mango chunks right now. I responded to Merry Christmas Homeless Guy with the awkward and unexpected, "Season's Greetings!"
I have no idea where that even came from.
I'm feeling slightly guilty that as I type this, even though half of my home is currently a construction zone, I've got Santa jammies and Maurice to look forward to. Not to mention those frozen mango chunks. What if I (or YOU for that matter) could dramatically change someone's life by taking that risk and opening that dented Honda door?
And sure, I'd always secretly expect Merry Christmas Homeless Guy to become a lovable 49er who learns football plays via analogies about how much he loves me (yeah, they go there). But I'd never actually say it. And that folks, is how you get movies made about you...


antfaber said...

Silly Bethy, you should have just given him cab fare & Gavin's address. It's his job, after all.

Mousqueton said...

Beth dearest:
It is a matter of leagues; just like in sports. Hard core cases need hard core helpers. Ivy league cases need ivy league helpers. Do not try to play out of your league. As the say reads; Big dogs piss on big trees. If you are not a big dog, let them do their thing and stay out their way. Look for those cases that you can handle and make a difference.

At the end of the day it is exactly the same unless the reason you are helping is to blow up your ego.

The pleasure of making one buck is exactly the same as the pleasure of making one million. The difference is not in the pleasure but in the egotistical perception that you are far better because you made more.

In a similar way, the pleasure of helping someone in need in a seemingly small measure is the same as changing a life unless you are doing it for your own egotistical amusement.

Sick to what you can do; small is as beautiful as big and it should be equally rewarding.

It is nice that you are thinking and writing about it though.

Check out this LINK and read the comments; this guy is using his blog and following to help the cause he feels dear.

You certainly have the following and could do something similar to help a cause or person in need you feel dear.

Seasons greetings to you!