An item on e-kvetcher's blog ('Search for Emmes') reminded me of some of the things that people offer to charities. Not that his posting had anything to do with charities. It has no conceivable connection with the subject of this post, except in my mind.
[What can I say? It's my mind, and I'll do with it what I like.]
As some of you know, Savage Kitten works at a charitable organization. Part of her job involves listening to people who call to donate. Savage Kitten is not really a people person - I need to mention that, so that you will understand how this part of her job affects her. She does not like people. She does not like people who have blinkers on their minds. She does not like people who do not get to the point, nor people who do not get the point. These, precisely, are the people who call up wishing to donate objects. It is unfortunate.
[Savage Kitten is my long-time companion, helpmeet, and better half. She is not a social creature. She has a keen head for math, an eye for detail, and a sharp sense of humour. But she is not a people person by any stretch of the imagination.]
What do people wish to donate?
They wish to donate mattresses ("it's only stained on ONE side!"), chairs ("one of the legs is a bit loose... well actually, it fell off"), computers ("I plugged it in and it still works!"), bookcases ("just needs new veneer"), refrigerators ("you have to pick it up right NOW!"), second hand coffins --- that was only one person with a coffin, but she really really wanted the charity to pick it up soon, because she was moving. It had barely been used.
Most charities do not have much storage space, do not have repair facilities, and do not have a dozen strong hairy men with trucks. Most charities are not geared towards helping you get rid of the stuff that you do not wish to pay someone to take down to the dump.
Charities like money.
Charities do not need six dented cans of ten-year old satin-finish sandpebble left over from your days as an apartment manager. Charities cannot use your old lawn mower, or the spare tire from a car you no longer own. Charities do not want five boxes of used clothing of doubtful cleanliness and nineteen sixties taste.
Charities do not take live animals (or dead ones). Golf clubs, lawn chairs, solvents? No thanks. Twelve boxes of nice wooly sweaters knitted by the retired ladies benevolent guild? Errm, no thank you so sorry.
Day-old cakes from Norma's Wedding Bakery? Used baby clothes? Pale green tuxedoes and purple ruffled shirts? No, no, no!
Please send money.
Yes, this is San Francisco - but no one really wants to touch your three dozen pairs of crotchless bluejeans.
If, on the other hand, you decide to sell a kidney and donate the proceeds, most charities will not blink an eye. Do so, and Savage Kitten will even send you a VERY NICE thank you card signed by the executive director, AND a plaque announcing that YOU (yes, you!) are a member of the Cavalcade of Angels™ (donors who have contributed over a thousand dollars).
Heck, sell two kidneys. Thank you! You are now an angel.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
MAY GET DIZZY, DON'T GET PREGNANT
After picking up my refills I mentally calculated how often I've been to that pharmacy. More times than my years of age. Which is not su...
11 comments:
A second-hand coffin? Only used once?
What are you talking about? All of these are perfectly acceptable donations - to Goodwill, or Salvation Army.
Tzipporah, Gwill and Salvarm are specifically set up to warehouse and sell such things.
Soupkitchens, charitable funds, educational support services for the poor, and job-training centers, along with most medical and social services, are not. At most they have a floor of an office building, three storeys up, with a disparate collection of furniture and equipment that they use themselves, on a daily basis.
Calling up lets say 'Lutheran Black Orphan Housing' and demanding (!) that they pick up your 1950's frigidaire, now, this afternoon - or warehouse your twenty-year old dented Toyota till some noodge buys it at forty bucks a year from now (proceeds to go to the charity in 2010, but the donor wants his blue-book value tax credit this year!) really is not part of the programme. Especially not in a city where real-estate (storage capacity) is at an all-time high.
Same with aid to the Burmese or Sudanese. They really don't want old tape-decks and used parkas. Those get shredded, dumped, or recycled - and whatever pitiful penny profit results from the disposal will get used. Money can easily be converted to good works. Fifteen containers of dented Ikea is just woodpulp.
Again, some outfits are set up to help you get rid of your old solid waste. Some handle food contributions or clothing.
Most are set up to handle cheques, vouchers, paper money, stocks, bonds, and organ-donor futures.
Calling up 'Kidneys For Christian Refugees' with a demand that they take your grandma's collection of tropical butterflies and beetles (nice museum quality display boxes, pre-war preservatives, and rusty pins through the thorax), simply pisses them off. And a refrigerator that hasn't been cleaned since Noah chucked it onto the Mt. Ararat landfill really makes 'em livid.
Or at least, makes the clerical worker who deals with those calls but lives with me livid. Not to say flabbergasted (boruch atta adonai eloheinu, melech ha olam, asher flabberei et gasteinu...).
I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to get my mind around a second-hand coffin. Whose? Dracula's?
Maybe they tipped the occupant out at the dump in Colma, put some cement over him, and used the coffin as an ice-chest?
Alternatively, decided that they needed to upgrade the casket to impress the neighbors.
Had a spare one hoping that Grandma would push off sooner?
Made do with the morgue body-bag?
Had a wild party during which the body went missing?
Zombiefied the deceased and our now gainfully emplying him for the first time in his life?
E-mailed him home to Guatamala?
---Grant Patel
Nothing worse than a coffin too small for the occupant. No amount of prodding, shoving, or trimming makes a comfortable fit.
So maybe the coffin was too small for the intended? He grew?
---Grant Patel
I know...we can fill the coffin full of oats!
When I deleted the previous comment because of an orthographic error, I was informed that my "cookie fuctionality" was "impaired". Anyone care to explicate? It sounds like pure Dada from here.
You.... are not a cookie. You cannot function like a cookie. But most of the modern generation can function like a cookie. You are, quod erat demonstrandum, cookie impaired.
I.... am a gorilla.
---Grant Patel
Just one more frigging thing for me to worry about.
Post a Comment