I used to love doing good deeds during the holidays, if nothing else it made me feel good about my lot in life. Years ago I started a thing with local musicians and bar people. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas we would show up at the Salvation Army center here in town and pick up and deliver holiday dinners to elderly shut-ins. It was so cool, we’d show up and get our route, which was usually deep in the hood and about a dozen dinners, and off we’d go doing the good deed. It was such an amazing feeling to have. The folks we delivered to were elderly people living alone with no family to spend their time with. We’d roll up and knock on the door and they’d crack it open to see a hairy sound man or musician still red eyed from the gig or a waitress or stripper lookin weary from the night before. Hell, they even got to see me grinning down at em. We’d bum rush the door and pass out hugs, bad advice and hot food. At times we felt like all our sins were absolved because we got blessed more then the Pope. I can’t begin to describe how doing this made a person feel. I used to think if I could do this every day I would, cause it made me feel that good. I even got the honor of finding out that one of the girls moved to Austin and started her own group doing the same thing. But as with all good things it came to an end. The list time I did this me and the Austin girl were standing in line at the Salvation Army waiting to pick up our boxes of food. As we’re in line leaning on each other to stay awake this cat walks by dangling his Mercedes key ring. He stops next to me and says in a loud voice, “don’t eat all the food before the old folks get it’. To make it short we went out and passed out all our dinners and even came back and made a second run. But that guy and what he said just soured me to the whole thing, and I haven’t done it since. Our little group of bar people did this cause it made us feel like we were giving to a good effort. We didn’t brag it up or do it because it was the “socially conscious” thing to do. And we didn’t do it because our fuckin golf clutch at the clubhouse thought it would be fun to hang out in the hood. We happily ignored the hangovers and the shock of seein each in the bright daylight and went out to try to make someone’s day a little better. Then we all went our separate ways till the next time, each one of us secretly counting the times we got blessed. Peace
Wednesday, December 11
Name: Greg Beck
Home: first bar stool to the left, make mine a Beam & coke please!, United States
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