Right now, this very minute, people all around the world are ruining Christmas for me. At least that is what I would say if the world revolved around me. But then, if you think about it...if the world really did revolve around me... we would probably be faced with quite a few problems, scientifically speaking. For one, my love and heart-warm-ed-ness, though weak most of the time, at its strongest would never be enough to fuel the earth and all its living creatures. Second, gravity would be severley messed up and people and objects alike would be flying around everywhere without a care.
Speaking of not caring, homeless people are an interesting bunch. I'm not talking about people that have fallen on hard times and currently are without home...not the legitimate o
nes. I'm refering to the people that are "homeless" by choice. These are the ones that you typically see on the corners, looking all pitiful and bedraggled, begging for money with their carefully crafted, authenic cardboard signs and misspelled words. They really tug at the heart strings, don't they?
I was leaving work from the arena the other day, here in the downtowm area, and I was approached by one of these seemingly lupine city nomads. He asked me for my spare change. I don't carry cash on me, to be honest. But instead of the quick "no", I responded with the question, "What do you need it for?" The weathered man responded, "I'm hungry and want to get some food." I then thought fast, remembering something my dad did many moons ago, and invited him to come across the street to the cafe with me where I would buy him some lunch. Normally, I would say that a truely homeless, deprived and famished person would jump on an invitation like this, but his answer was simply, "Thanks anyway." I didn't care. I wasn't even really going to the cafe; I just said that to see if he would bite (yeah, pun intended!).
At least they, meaning the bums, aren't all dishonest with their motives and purposes. Just the other day, another street fellow was standing on the corner with a sign that read "need money for pot". Now, although I can't say I totally support his cause, I do have to admit I was tempted to donate solely based on his straightforwardness and gumption. Everybody loves a bum with gumption.
Anyway, to wrap this bad boy up, I've decided that being a bum (and by bum I am refering to those sneaky societal "homeless" leaches) is a full time job. Yep, remaining jobless (in their case) is a full time job. In fact, knowingly or unknowingly, they have made a living out of trying not to make a living. If they would just put some of that tenacity (I was going to say will power, but then I started laughing and could barely type straight) toward a real, respectable career...they might make it. But then again, that is why they do what they do already...the pressure and responsibility of a respectable career and "making it" is just too much for their rag-dressed bones to handle.
Speaking of not caring, homeless people are an interesting bunch. I'm not talking about people that have fallen on hard times and currently are without home...not the legitimate o
nes. I'm refering to the people that are "homeless" by choice. These are the ones that you typically see on the corners, looking all pitiful and bedraggled, begging for money with their carefully crafted, authenic cardboard signs and misspelled words. They really tug at the heart strings, don't they?I was leaving work from the arena the other day, here in the downtowm area, and I was approached by one of these seemingly lupine city nomads. He asked me for my spare change. I don't carry cash on me, to be honest. But instead of the quick "no", I responded with the question, "What do you need it for?" The weathered man responded, "I'm hungry and want to get some food." I then thought fast, remembering something my dad did many moons ago, and invited him to come across the street to the cafe with me where I would buy him some lunch. Normally, I would say that a truely homeless, deprived and famished person would jump on an invitation like this, but his answer was simply, "Thanks anyway." I didn't care. I wasn't even really going to the cafe; I just said that to see if he would bite (yeah, pun intended!).
At least they, meaning the bums, aren't all dishonest with their motives and purposes. Just the other day, another street fellow was standing on the corner with a sign that read "need money for pot". Now, although I can't say I totally support his cause, I do have to admit I was tempted to donate solely based on his straightforwardness and gumption. Everybody loves a bum with gumption.Anyway, to wrap this bad boy up, I've decided that being a bum (and by bum I am refering to those sneaky societal "homeless" leaches) is a full time job. Yep, remaining jobless (in their case) is a full time job. In fact, knowingly or unknowingly, they have made a living out of trying not to make a living. If they would just put some of that tenacity (I was going to say will power, but then I started laughing and could barely type straight) toward a real, respectable career...they might make it. But then again, that is why they do what they do already...the pressure and responsibility of a respectable career and "making it" is just too much for their rag-dressed bones to handle.
