As planned, I called my mom last night. She was both pleased and surprised. I'm a good son.
* * * * *
I haven't seen the guy in the yellow coat since writing about him. I hope he found somewhere warm. Although it wouldn't surprise me if he used the money he scrounged off people more soft-headed than I to go to Florida or the like for the winter. Which if that's the case, the dirty crook deserves sun stroke.
The woman is still there though. A few days back I was riding the escalator down from ground level of my building towards the tunnel to the subway and she was nowhere in sight. Then I heard her plaintive call but still couldn't see her. As I reached the bottom, I could see that she had switched sides in the tunnel so that she was only a few feet from the escalator. It made it more difficult to ignore her, but I was up to the assignment.
Yes, I'm a hero.
* * * * *
Every Christmas, it seems there is one toy that one of our children asks Santa for that Mommy and Daddy somehow can't find, leaving us scrambling for (1) an appropriate replacement and (2) a good explanation for why Mr. Claus didn't some through (elves get blamed a lot in this scenario). Last year, it was something called the Little Mommy Shopping Cart, which was Nicole's heart's desire, but we had no luck. I can't remember what we bought instead, but our explanation was that Santa knew she was too old for that toy and that he saved it for a younger little girl. Nicole, as selfish as any seven-year old but with a heart as huge as the world, understood and accepted this explanation.
This year, it looked like it would be Nicole again, although it was her own fault. She had her eye on something called Cold Nose Puppy, but forgot to put it on her list to Santa. When realizing this error, she decided that a greater power had blocked that desire from her mind when preparing the list. That greater power was called Puppy, a small brown stuffed dog who has been her constant companion and in some ways best friend - certainly her most loyal friend, considering the treacheries of school-age females - since getting him five years ago when she was two. Nicole believed that Puppy was jealous of any other dog stealing her away from him, and she gave up on the idea. But it was clear that she still wanted this toy, so Maxine and I agreed that something had to be done. With Nicole in the room, I sat Puppy down and told him that he shouldn't be jealous of another puppy, that he would always be Nicole's best dog. I also told him that he should trust Nicole not to abandon him, since she trusts him not to run off with any other little girls that he meets. Puppy saw the cool logic of this, and gave his assent. But Nicole pointed out that Cold Nose Puppy wasn't on her list, and I explained that Santa Claus knows what's in your heart and what you truly need and he would take care of it. Last night, I bought the new canine at WalMart, and he'll be waiting for her on Christmas morning.
Not only am I a good son, but I think I'm a pretty damned good dad too.
Now my problem is a Furby for Brittany. I had my hands on one at WalMart a week ago during our annual shopping-for-the-kids extravaganza, but left it behind because Maxine told me she wanted a different colour. Well, one week and a half-dozen stores later and still no Furby. I'm off on Monday to do groceries and alcohol for our Christmas Eve party and Christmas Day dinner, and it looks like I'll be spending part of the day searching high and low for a fuzzy little "Gremlins" rip-off, and she'll be bloody happy with whatever colour I manage to get my hands on. Wish me luck.
* * * * *
By the way, I appreciate the incongruity of discussing beggars in one section and my efforts to spend an obscene amount of money on my kids in the next. I make no apologies for loving my children and wanting them to have everything I can offer, materially and otherwise. It may seem hard-hearted, but I am a big believer in personal accountability, and it seems to me many beggars are just unwilling to do the heavy lifting needed to compete in the world. Until you can show me a foolproof way to separate them from the genuinely down-on-their-luck, I remain untouched for funds.
* * * * *
I haven't seen the guy in the yellow coat since writing about him. I hope he found somewhere warm. Although it wouldn't surprise me if he used the money he scrounged off people more soft-headed than I to go to Florida or the like for the winter. Which if that's the case, the dirty crook deserves sun stroke.
The woman is still there though. A few days back I was riding the escalator down from ground level of my building towards the tunnel to the subway and she was nowhere in sight. Then I heard her plaintive call but still couldn't see her. As I reached the bottom, I could see that she had switched sides in the tunnel so that she was only a few feet from the escalator. It made it more difficult to ignore her, but I was up to the assignment.
Yes, I'm a hero.
* * * * *
Every Christmas, it seems there is one toy that one of our children asks Santa for that Mommy and Daddy somehow can't find, leaving us scrambling for (1) an appropriate replacement and (2) a good explanation for why Mr. Claus didn't some through (elves get blamed a lot in this scenario). Last year, it was something called the Little Mommy Shopping Cart, which was Nicole's heart's desire, but we had no luck. I can't remember what we bought instead, but our explanation was that Santa knew she was too old for that toy and that he saved it for a younger little girl. Nicole, as selfish as any seven-year old but with a heart as huge as the world, understood and accepted this explanation.
This year, it looked like it would be Nicole again, although it was her own fault. She had her eye on something called Cold Nose Puppy, but forgot to put it on her list to Santa. When realizing this error, she decided that a greater power had blocked that desire from her mind when preparing the list. That greater power was called Puppy, a small brown stuffed dog who has been her constant companion and in some ways best friend - certainly her most loyal friend, considering the treacheries of school-age females - since getting him five years ago when she was two. Nicole believed that Puppy was jealous of any other dog stealing her away from him, and she gave up on the idea. But it was clear that she still wanted this toy, so Maxine and I agreed that something had to be done. With Nicole in the room, I sat Puppy down and told him that he shouldn't be jealous of another puppy, that he would always be Nicole's best dog. I also told him that he should trust Nicole not to abandon him, since she trusts him not to run off with any other little girls that he meets. Puppy saw the cool logic of this, and gave his assent. But Nicole pointed out that Cold Nose Puppy wasn't on her list, and I explained that Santa Claus knows what's in your heart and what you truly need and he would take care of it. Last night, I bought the new canine at WalMart, and he'll be waiting for her on Christmas morning.
Not only am I a good son, but I think I'm a pretty damned good dad too.
Now my problem is a Furby for Brittany. I had my hands on one at WalMart a week ago during our annual shopping-for-the-kids extravaganza, but left it behind because Maxine told me she wanted a different colour. Well, one week and a half-dozen stores later and still no Furby. I'm off on Monday to do groceries and alcohol for our Christmas Eve party and Christmas Day dinner, and it looks like I'll be spending part of the day searching high and low for a fuzzy little "Gremlins" rip-off, and she'll be bloody happy with whatever colour I manage to get my hands on. Wish me luck.
* * * * *
By the way, I appreciate the incongruity of discussing beggars in one section and my efforts to spend an obscene amount of money on my kids in the next. I make no apologies for loving my children and wanting them to have everything I can offer, materially and otherwise. It may seem hard-hearted, but I am a big believer in personal accountability, and it seems to me many beggars are just unwilling to do the heavy lifting needed to compete in the world. Until you can show me a foolproof way to separate them from the genuinely down-on-their-luck, I remain untouched for funds.
posted by George @ 5:43 a.m.
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