A More Serious Issue - Charity and Giving

While I normally focus on the lighter side of life, there is something plaguing my mind lately - the concept of charity and giving.

Some of us give money, some of us give time, some of us just lend a helping hand. Is one form of giving more charitable than another?

I think I do a lot of different charitable things. Whether I'm supporting a dear friend in his Hoops 4 Israel project, chairing committees for the Pediatric Oncology Group of Ontario, delivering food to families in need, or occasionally giving money to people on the street.

About giving money to people on the street: A friend of mine once took a strip off me for giving money to one of the several Yorkville hobos (and I'm not talking coveted handbags here). She said I'm contributing to "the problem" by giving them money. I'm not sure if I'm the enabler here - if I'm endorsing their practice of making a living simply by begging or if I am sincerely helping someone who is mentally and perhaps physically, unable to have a job.

There is one gentleman who I see in various locations south of Davenport on Avenue Road, Cumberland and Bellair. He was clearly traumatized by a fire or chemical accident. His skin is badly charred and scarred, he's missing a lot of teeth, his fingers are now stubs with blackened tips and his speech is pretty incomprehensible. On first glance though, you can see he's not only disfigured on the outside, but he's hurt inside and has a heart of gold.

Yes there's the drunken dude who has claimed the stairs outside Hugo Boss and Hemingway's as his standard spot. He originally began his "career" sporting a surgical halo. Since then he's lost 20 plus pounds (lucky man...sorry its true!), but continues to just keep his hand out to passersby.

Not that it takes sporadic yelling, or preachy diatribes to make one think, 'Wow this person really HAS a problem!' but I often wonder what stops this man from having a job of any kind. I once worked in a call centre for a summer selling timeshare exchange- after that I'm confident to say ANYONE can have a job.

The scarred man however, is the one I give to anytime I see him. I figure there is no job waiting for him nor a caring partner at home with a warm meal or comfy bed. Is giving money to him contributing to the greater economic problem? My friend may think so, but I don't.

As I emptied my wallet (of a lame ten bucks) to him yesterday on my walk home, I turned off my iPod to wish him well. In the past I've heard him say, "G-D bless you" so after I gave him the money I automatically said "G-D bless YOU." Saying that automatically after a sneeze is simply habit - yesterday I sincerely meant it.

But when I walked away, before I turned my iPod back on I heard him say thank you. I turned around to face him and said "you're welcome" but my heart sank. He smiled as did I, but I walked away feeling guilty. I wondered if he wanted more than just money. Did he even want money at all? He put his hand out toward me and even though I was listening to music, I felt I didn't misunderstand the gesture.

Would it have killed me to stand there longer and see if he wanted to chat? What if he has no one to talk to? Not that I'm the best person to be his temporary buddy, but maybe he just wanted a human connection. I felt like I should have hugged him.

Me, the personal space issue and germaphobe queen, felt like I should have at least rubbed his shoulder or given him more than ten seconds of my time.

I've seen him several times before and I'm sure I will see him again but what if that moment he needed more than just cash and I didn't give as I should have.

Where does the charity line stop? Does it stop? Is it charity or just humanity?

Does collecting silent auction items for a glitzy gala that generates only a couple thousand dollars to the cause after salaries are paid worth it?

Does handing out bagels and fruit at a basketball tournament really make a difference to the targeted children in need?

I guess my Jewish guilt is forever churning, which is a positive sign that I am likely a good person beneath all of my shallow commentary.

I just don't know what the right thing to do ACTUALLY IS anymore.

A Classic Dating Tale

I'm in a sharing mood.
If I were ever going to write a book on my dating blunders, this would DEFINITELY be a feature.

I hope you enjoy this as much as my friends did at the time:


Date: August 23, 2004
Name: Jeff

Let me begin with the conversations on the phone. He seemed super nice and very chatty on the phone. Sometimes a little too much detail (i.e. "going to flake out by the pool, then maybe go horseback riding, play with my puppy (who is a huge doberman), etc. etc.). He seemed very
VERY excited to meet me, which freaked me out a bit. He even knew it was going to freak me out. Even one of his female friends told him he should probably stop it.

Anyway, he wanted to go for dinner and go-carting that night. Generally, first dates, especially Jdates, I meet the guy at the location - never a pick-up. However, he knew where I lived...he's a real-estate agent and we got to talking about the neighbourhood...he knew my house. Anyway, I got out of go-carting by telling him I had an early morning meeting and I didn't want to be out too late. He thought I was lying (which I was) but I told him I was being 100% honest, I just wanted to get some good sleep.

Dinner is obligation enough for the first date.

He says "okay, let's take it by ear, but let's not be OCD about it."

I was shocked.

But I had my usual delayed reaction and didn't say anything. I didn't want to go on the date at all now but I had already skimmed back once, I felt badly cancelling entire.

Flash forward to date time, he calls me to tell me he'll be 10 minutes late, then asks if he minds if we go to get the car washed. I said no problem, and he goes on about he's "OCD" about it (obsessive compulsive disorder)...that's the second time he used that term with me. I thought 'oh, he's not being rude that's his saying…stupid but okay this time.'

Anyway, the guy called back 2 minutes later to double check that it was okay to get it washed with me, or should he go before he picked me up....yet again, I said to come and get me first.

So he finally gets to my house...AND HE PARKS ON THE LAWN! What an idiot. I lived with my parents at the time, and they take really good care of the property. The back garden looks like Versailles. My mom acted cool about it but you know she was having a fit deep down. Anyway, I open the door and he shakes my hand and then doesn't look at me, just talks to my parents. He was a nerd with them "gee, its been a long time since I've had to meet the parents!" Yeah, well, you're a stranger and you're 35, I'm 25...suck it up.

We finally get going and every car wash in my area is closed.

Oh and FYI I was SO NOT attracted to him.

We went to this place mid-town, Spacco...very cute. The waiter was even cuter. I was actually
making eyes with him...ME! FLIRTING WITH A TOTAL STRANGER! My friends would have been so proud. I've never done that before!

Jeff was very awkward, kept moving around, couldn't sit still. He said I made him nervous, which "doesn't normally happen" to him. At one point we were both sitting on this bench at the table he was facing me, my side, and I was facing the table, but he had both feet up on the
bench with his arms clasped around his legs…like the fetal position...SO WEIRD! Let me remind you he's a 6 foot 5 bean pole!

Then he starts asking me about my dates, this , that, and the other. He asked me what kind of person I am, and I told him I'm generally a pretty open girl, I wear my heart on my sleeve. He said "No you don't." I was like "actually I do." He's like "To me, you seem like...how do I put it...you those castles in Scotland? They have a moat around them and a big wall and a draw bridge? You seem like you have all these boundaries around you. I think I could break down that wall, would you let the bridge down so I could cross the moat?" I knew I didn't like this guy anyway, so I went with it.
I just said
"you know what? I think you're right!!! I think I'm just not over my ex!" I made up a story how I dated this guy J for a while and we broke up less than a month ago and I just wasn't ready to move on. The whole night was dictated by this conversation...he couldn't let it go. He kept saying. "You could easily be my lobster, but I don't know if I could be yours...could I be
yours?" And on and on and on and on. "I want a woman on my arm and a slut in my bedroom...blah blah blah."

I kept up with the "I put myself out there before and I got hurt and I'm not ready to date, and yada yada yada." Two of my guy friends called me during my date and tried to get me out of it, but I didn't know if he could hear them through the phone. One friend was quiet
but it was too soon for the mercy phone call, we just sat down. The other friend was UBER loud...at some bar or something...JEFF COULD TOTALLY HEAR! Uch!

The guy was very complimentary, which is always nice to hear. How I seemed like such a sweetheart, smart, funny, intelligent, beautiful...everything. It was flattering, but like my favourite movie (Pretty Woman) says, "people put you down enough you start to believe it...the bad stuff is easier to believe" and that's totally true. The whole time I kept thinking "Did J think this?" "If this guy is saying this, do you think J thought the same?" That's all I could do. I thought about J the entire night. Much like I did with bad kisser Rob (that's a whole other blog post).

He asked me again if he could be my lobster and asked me to answer honestly and that there wouldn't be any repercussions. I kindly said "I don't think so." I was thinking inside "repercussions? Honey, I can walk home from here!" But I gave him the good ol' "but I have a great girl to set you up with!"

It was a depressing date I gotta say. I mean, I was happy to keep up with the "I'm not ready to move on" bit, which might be partially true, but I'd like to think that if another lobster came along I could. The best part was when Jeff went to the washroom and the cute waiter came
over with the bill. He's like "is this your first date?" I said "yip" He said "is this the last date?" I said, "YIP!" The he said, "well, when its over, you can stay and have a few drinks!" I should have, but the right thing to do was to leave with the date. I smiled at him and said good bye when I left.

Jeff asks again in the car about the "could I be your lobster" thing AGAIN! I wanted to throttle him! But he was much bigger than me and he unfortunately had the car keys. I just said that we could be friends.

I finally get home, give the guy a nice hug, and close the door behind me.

Just as I'm taking off my shoes and heading to the den to tell my parents about how stupid my night really was, my phone rings.

Its him.

"So!??? I just want to clarify, did WE decide that we would be friends???"

I answered in a sweet yet tired tone "Yes, I'll call you soon."

Hung up.

Never spoke to him again.

Only the Unattainable Make Me Tick

I've recently realized I've got a major issue: I am attracted to two types of men - those who will hurt me (emotionally), and those who would never be interested in me (read: gay, married, out-of-the-country).

I was recently on a press junket and one of my U.S. colleagues was SO ADORABLE, he looked like the guy who plays Daniel Meade from Ugly Betty. The catch? He's gay. So gay he matched his striped sweater to his striped socks. Even the other co-gay had to mock a little.

In addition to that is my constant attraction to the male species named Michael. I kid you not, I'm looking at going on my ninth Michael.
I met him randomly at a party a few weeks ago. It was a drunken mistake to give out my number, but who knows - maybe he'll be THE Michael.

There haven't been any married men to swoon over lately, although I have in the past. I'm not the kind of girl to act on those crushes, but I could easily identify it was their emotional (and physical) unavailability that made them THAT MUCH MORE attractive than the usual Jo Shlomo on the block.

As for those who are sure to hurt me at the end of the day.
No idea what that's about.

It's all in line with the unavailability.

Well, here's to Michael 2008. May he look like Daniel Meade without the wine goggles I was sporting, and may he treat me like the gold I'm supposed to think I am.

Momentum: Life in the Toilet

When dating, I'd say it's important to figure out if you're into the other person quickly so as not to waste the other's time. Sounds obvious, but why do we bother with another when times between dates are so great?

I referenced J once before and how it took six weeks between our third and fourth date before we saw each other again; there is now another J dancing around my life (ref: Social Lubricant post) who now I think is getting ye ol' kick to el curb-o.

At the time of the first date with J2, the thought of even kissing the guy was a little unsettling (clue #1), but now our schedules have been pretty busy with social events, fundraisers (that he doesn't go to), cancelling due to work deadlines (that'd be him), Passover, friend good-bye parties (that's me), and again this weekend with more cancellations due to work (again, that'd be him).

It has been more than five weeks now since our first date. Yes, we've talked a bit on the phone here and there, but nothing that makes you want to take that phone call "to the next level."

(A good Jewish girl like me doesn't do that stuff anyway! I swear!)

I think its safe to say any momentum - and there wasn't much to begin with - is now in the toilet. In fact, I think it's made it's way through the sewage system, into the lakes, and is now sinking to the bottom to be sucked up by any plankton that may live in the abyss' deepest, darkest, lowest, surface.

I think this is a case where Greg and Liz might say "Honey, he's just not that into you!"
But then why bother calling? Why even make another date time?

A friend of mine suggested I say "look, why don't you give me a call sometime and if it works out great, and if it doesn't - it doesn't." I said it, but the guy didn't get the hint. He said he'll call me later this week to make a plan.

Oh J2, I'm really not into you...or your weird hair line.

I'm setting a rule. If you don't go out on a second date within two weeks -forget it. Move on.
If after the third date there are more than two and a half weeks between, send in the next douche bag.