Say A Little Prayer

I don't know in what god you believe. I don't know in what you place your faith. I don't know to whom you pray.

Whatever your spiritual calling (or non-calling) happens to be, my household could really use whatever positive energy you can send this way.

Thank you in advance.

Elevator Etiquette

Elevators are a necessary evil. We all have to use them at some point and none of us are terribly excited about sharing such close quarters with complete strangers. That said, please show some respect to your fellow riders by showing the following courtesies.

1. Do not fart on the elevator. Ever.
2. Hold the door for those coming in behind you. Immediately walking to the back and looking at the floor does not abdicate you of this. You aren't the only one who has to use this thing, you selfish prick.
3. Unless you have some physical disability or limitation, do not take the elevator for trips of fewer than two floors. It pisses people off. Really.
4. Save those disturbing personal conversations for other small enclosed areas ... like your office.
5. Your cell phone won't work in the elevator. Put it away.

Your friends, coworkers, and other assorted persons thank you in advance.

A Bit of Self-Assessment

NOTE: All conversations are being drawn from memory and may not be quoted exactly right, but the meaning is the same.

Last week ... Halloween night, of all nights ... I was out with some friends, one of whom I haven't spent time with in over a year. In fact, the last time I spent time with this particular friend, he was going through a difficult time and I gave him a place to crash for a little bit.

We reminisced about that point in his life. During our walk down memory lane, he looked at me and said, "Thank you for helping me out then. You really have no idea how difficult that period of my life was and how much that little act of kindess helped me get through it. It put me where I am today, in a much better place. And here you are again doing it for someone else."

That brief interaction hit me hard. I spent the rest of the night in a funk, although I'm sure no one around me knew it. I couldn't help but think that maybe, perhaps, I am destined to remain single all the rest of my days acting as a guide, a Samaritan for those I come across who need a helping hand to pull them out of the dark places in which they may find themselves.

I should have taken it as a compliment. It should have gladdened my heart. It should have lifted my spirits. But it didn't. I felt sorrier for myself. I felt more alone.

Seven days have passed since that night. I have had the benefit of space to reflect on it and its meaning.

And I've come to the realization that it is a good thing. What I did for him. What I'm doing for someone else now. My role in this world.

Fortune may smile on me one day and deliver to me someone who can love me, put up with me, stand by me, break me down and build me up. But if that should never come to pass I am still fortunate.

I have a lot of love to give. And I have chosen to freely give that love to those who need it. It no longer matters to me how long or how short their stop in my life is. It no longer matters to me if our relationship is platonic or romantic or simply in-passing.

It only matters to me that I can give. And I will gladly do so.

Helping the Homeless

If you're like me (and some of you are I just know it), you're a bit hesitant to give a homeless person money. When approached by a panhandler, you may ask yourself, "What will they use this money for - liquor, drugs, food?" It's a valid question and one I have asked myself every time before giving a homeless person money.

Today I came across a homeless person who was asking for money. One dollar to be exact. It's not the first time I've seen him. And it wasn't the first time I gave him money without hesitation. And, he's not the only homeless person out there asking for exactly one dollar.

See, this homeless fellow is a vendor, an entrepreneur, a salesman. He's out there every day (in this case, on the corner of Connecticut Avenue and Q Street, NW) giving copies of Street Sense for a dollar donation. (You can give more than a dollar, if you so wish.) Street Sense, for those of you who don't know, is a bi-monthly newspaper written by the area's poor and homeless. It is "sold" by the area's poor and homeless as a way to make some money, as opposed to panhandling. Each person (vendor) is essentially their own company ... an outsourcer, if you will. One quarter of every dollar goes to the publication; the other seventy-five cents go to the vendor. The vendor makes an honest living and the buyer learns a bit about the area's poor and homeless. It's a win-win for everyone.

My point is simply this: if you see someone on the street in a yellow "Street Sense" vest selling Street Sense newspapers for a dollar, do you both a favor and give that person two dollars. He's simply doing his job.