Options
step up and give credit
webmost
Posts: 7,713 ✭✭✭✭✭
I started that "I get the impression" thread a couple days ago, and this morning I got to reading the responses, including this one from MVW67:
"I like to welcome new ones to the forums and old ones, LOL . These things I do in everyday life also, at the Club where I golf, at the boat club, everyone knows if Mikee is present there are going to be good times! I have bombed botl when they were having tough times and I didn't know it, then they send a thank you how much it brightened their day or week, I think cool maybe some of this will filter down to others the way it did to me, when I first came in! like my quote says life is too short!! So yes I'll continue bombing/sharing!!!:-) :-) :-) :-)"
... and it got me to thinking. You know that commercial for a bank, I think it is, where one person steps up for another and the other steps up for another and it goes full circle? I'll bet we all have a story about startling generosity, impulsive or planned, which inspired us with the notion of building our own karma bank.
For me, it was my crazy Uncle Carl. Here's but one of many many examples: I had a struggling hippie friend who lived in a communal house where the fridge went belly up. He happened to mention to me that the house couldn't afford to replace the fridge. I said: "Help me clear the stuff out of my van. We're going to Carl's place in San Fran." Drove to Carl's, introduced my friend, laid out the prob, and within an hour we loaded a fridge in the van with plans to come back later for a washer for a person I had never met who my friend knew tangentially and who's washer had gone south. That was Carl in a nutshell. If you were moving, or you had an extra TV, or whatever, you brought it to Carl. If you were driving by, you brought beer, dropped it on the stoop, and scooted. Carl once bought 9 autos at the auction, I helped him fetch them, brought them home, wrenched them right, and he gave them away. Just like that. "Free Car" ads in the swapper. Thought he'd like to learn some wrenching, couldn't come up with anything better to do with them once he got them running right.
So.
Years after Carl passed away, I was in Alviso. Owned a fine white Chevy Monza with push button transmission, pretty nifty. Had a friend named Dia couple miles away who owned a horse Thunder which I rode because he needed exercise and she was afraid of him cause he still had his nuts. Drove the Monza to ride Thunder one day, dropped in Dia's house to say hi, and there was this scene in the living room: A terrified young mother, infant in her arms, toddler hiding behind her leg eyes big as saucers, a girl maybe four with kohl dark eyelids and a bald head but for a few wisps of blond laying on the couch too exhausted to be scared any more. Two months before, this woman was a housewife in the burbs with a fine budding family life. Then the sky fell. Her husband lost his job when two or three paychecks bounced, they fell behind, he died in a flaming car wreck on the way to apply for work, her daughter was diagnosed with leukemia, the company she worked for went out of business taking her health insurance with it, and today, as she was on the way to apply for a job in the middle of Carter's recession, toting her children in the car because there was no one to watch them, HER car caught on fire! She leapt out, grabbed up the infant in one arm, had the girl hold the tot's one hand, she held the other, and they walked three miles in 100 degree heat to the closest person she knew -- Dia. I said "Here," handed her the key to my Monza, "I'll walk home and get the pink slip. I'll leave it with Dia. You can get it when you have a chance." Left. Couldn't stay there any more.
This is not the kind of story you tell every day, because it sounds self-serving and because you don't want to draw down your karma account by looking at it. Besides, you know it's not your credit, it's really whoever inspired Carl and who inspired the guy who inspired Carl... at work again. It is with some diffidence, therefore, that I suggest as follows:
Mike. And the rest of you BOTLs. Step up. You can tell us, you're among friends. Who tickled the generous gene in you? And what's the most remarkable instance in which you paid forward? A few tobacco sticks here and there, that's really just fire crackers. Let's hear about truly bomb sized bombs. Car bombs, house bombs, big Enola Gay bombs.
I ask the rest of you please to refrain from praise regardless how inspiring the story. Karma accounts are delicate accounts which we want to remain intact. The purpose of the story is not to cash in, but to give credit where credit is due. Too long self-indulgence has landed us in tough times now. Passing the buck for good deeds to government has only proven how power corrupts. The math looking forward is not good for us. It's quite likely that multiplying kindness one to another, kin to kin, friend to friend, and even stranger to stranger, the way our forebears did it, is the only thing which will see us through. Let's hear what works.
I guess I should have posted this to another section of the forum, but I began pontificating about it here, and I'm too lazy to move it elsewhere, so...
A stinkin sermon ... and it ain't even Sunday yet!
"I like to welcome new ones to the forums and old ones, LOL . These things I do in everyday life also, at the Club where I golf, at the boat club, everyone knows if Mikee is present there are going to be good times! I have bombed botl when they were having tough times and I didn't know it, then they send a thank you how much it brightened their day or week, I think cool maybe some of this will filter down to others the way it did to me, when I first came in! like my quote says life is too short!! So yes I'll continue bombing/sharing!!!:-) :-) :-) :-)"
... and it got me to thinking. You know that commercial for a bank, I think it is, where one person steps up for another and the other steps up for another and it goes full circle? I'll bet we all have a story about startling generosity, impulsive or planned, which inspired us with the notion of building our own karma bank.
For me, it was my crazy Uncle Carl. Here's but one of many many examples: I had a struggling hippie friend who lived in a communal house where the fridge went belly up. He happened to mention to me that the house couldn't afford to replace the fridge. I said: "Help me clear the stuff out of my van. We're going to Carl's place in San Fran." Drove to Carl's, introduced my friend, laid out the prob, and within an hour we loaded a fridge in the van with plans to come back later for a washer for a person I had never met who my friend knew tangentially and who's washer had gone south. That was Carl in a nutshell. If you were moving, or you had an extra TV, or whatever, you brought it to Carl. If you were driving by, you brought beer, dropped it on the stoop, and scooted. Carl once bought 9 autos at the auction, I helped him fetch them, brought them home, wrenched them right, and he gave them away. Just like that. "Free Car" ads in the swapper. Thought he'd like to learn some wrenching, couldn't come up with anything better to do with them once he got them running right.
So.
Years after Carl passed away, I was in Alviso. Owned a fine white Chevy Monza with push button transmission, pretty nifty. Had a friend named Dia couple miles away who owned a horse Thunder which I rode because he needed exercise and she was afraid of him cause he still had his nuts. Drove the Monza to ride Thunder one day, dropped in Dia's house to say hi, and there was this scene in the living room: A terrified young mother, infant in her arms, toddler hiding behind her leg eyes big as saucers, a girl maybe four with kohl dark eyelids and a bald head but for a few wisps of blond laying on the couch too exhausted to be scared any more. Two months before, this woman was a housewife in the burbs with a fine budding family life. Then the sky fell. Her husband lost his job when two or three paychecks bounced, they fell behind, he died in a flaming car wreck on the way to apply for work, her daughter was diagnosed with leukemia, the company she worked for went out of business taking her health insurance with it, and today, as she was on the way to apply for a job in the middle of Carter's recession, toting her children in the car because there was no one to watch them, HER car caught on fire! She leapt out, grabbed up the infant in one arm, had the girl hold the tot's one hand, she held the other, and they walked three miles in 100 degree heat to the closest person she knew -- Dia. I said "Here," handed her the key to my Monza, "I'll walk home and get the pink slip. I'll leave it with Dia. You can get it when you have a chance." Left. Couldn't stay there any more.
This is not the kind of story you tell every day, because it sounds self-serving and because you don't want to draw down your karma account by looking at it. Besides, you know it's not your credit, it's really whoever inspired Carl and who inspired the guy who inspired Carl... at work again. It is with some diffidence, therefore, that I suggest as follows:
Mike. And the rest of you BOTLs. Step up. You can tell us, you're among friends. Who tickled the generous gene in you? And what's the most remarkable instance in which you paid forward? A few tobacco sticks here and there, that's really just fire crackers. Let's hear about truly bomb sized bombs. Car bombs, house bombs, big Enola Gay bombs.
I ask the rest of you please to refrain from praise regardless how inspiring the story. Karma accounts are delicate accounts which we want to remain intact. The purpose of the story is not to cash in, but to give credit where credit is due. Too long self-indulgence has landed us in tough times now. Passing the buck for good deeds to government has only proven how power corrupts. The math looking forward is not good for us. It's quite likely that multiplying kindness one to another, kin to kin, friend to friend, and even stranger to stranger, the way our forebears did it, is the only thing which will see us through. Let's hear what works.
I guess I should have posted this to another section of the forum, but I began pontificating about it here, and I'm too lazy to move it elsewhere, so...
A stinkin sermon ... and it ain't even Sunday yet!
“It has been a source of great pain to me to have met with so many among [my] opponents who had not the liberality to distinguish between political and social opposition; who transferred at once to the person, the hatred they bore to his political opinions.” —Thomas Jefferson (1808)
0
Comments
Years ago, I was headed to Montana to play baseball. My truck broke down outside of Butte and I was working on it to get it going again. This old guy pulled up and asked if I needed help. Mostly I needed a carrier bearing, but the nearest town was 40 miles away. He just smile and said he had some parts trucks and he'd go check and see if he had one.
Well, i went about tearing it apart and hoping I would have something to goback together. A little while went by and I was just about to start walking for a phone. This old bear came out of the woods about 100 yards from me. Being native, I took that as a sign to stay put for a bit. No sooner, did this old man come rolling up with a complete driveline. I put it together and got my truck back up and running. When I asked him what I owed him, he just said, "There will come a day when you are in a position to help someone who needs it. When that day comes, do what's right."
I never forgot those words. So I told that story to make sense of this one.
I had to stop at the local parts store one day and this old beat up station wagon pulls up. They were rummaging around in it and the lady was looking pretty worried.
When I asked if everything was ok, the guy said they were ok. The gal said they were ok.
So I went and got my parts, came out and they were still there. I could tell that they lost something. So I asked what they lost. The gal said they misplaced their bag of pop cans. (For those that don't know pop cans are 5 cents each here) It looked like their entire house was in the car.
Ok, stay with me here.
So, come to find out, the guy had a job here on the coast, with a place to live. All they had to do was get there and the pop cans were their gas money. I knew where the guy was talking about, so I had him pull around to the gas station and put 10 gallons of gas in the car and gave him a bunch of sandwiches.
He started to declined the food, but I told him my wife is a cook and she puts way too much food in my lunches and if I come home with the sandwiches and stuff, she'll be upset with me and we can't have that and besides, it was for his kids. I've been in their position and there is no reason they should suffer.
When he asked how they could repay me, the words of that old man came to me as clear as could be.
Someday when you are in a position to help someone in need, do so.
Sorry for the book, but that old man left a strong impression on me that day and he probably never even realizes it.
Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy cigars and that's close enough.
The three of us all keep dollars in our cars to give to kids with lemon aid stands. I love how happy a buck or a 5er can make a child. That 5 is a cigar to some of us but to them .... its like a million. Its such a great feeling to give....
O well, not every idea I get is worth having. Sometimes my mind gets carried away with my mouth.
Ive been watching. I am fortunate enough to be able to give. Its not a lot by any means... but its something. Some people might also be shy about it too.
On June 27th My sister killed herself leaving my 2 nephews without parents(Levi is 6, and Logan is 4). My mom will be getting custody.
Keep reading theres a point I promise. I hope I dont make this too abstract.
My sister was an LPN and worked at a place called Walk Of Joy. My sisters two main patients were my mentally handicapped aunt, and a severly severly Autistic boy(His name is Josh and my sister is the only person ever in the history of his treatment that he would allow to treat him and stay with him and hes 20). The people that run Walk of Joy were absolutely in love with my sister because she was always the kindest, gentlest, most sincere person you could ever meet and would go out of her way to put a smile on even a strangers face.
Heres the Point
A few of the people that run Walk of Joy have promised to donate quite a sizeable portion of their salaries ever year until my nephews turn 18 to make sure that my two nephews are clothed, fed, and taken care of. When my mom told me about this it actually brought tears to my eyes(i'm actually tearing up typing this now) because i couldnt believe that these individuals that have lives and children of their own would sacrifice so much.
So who else sends out way more then they smoke!!