GIVE ME A BREAK

As they say, no good deed goes unpunished. I am living proof.

My good deed? I gave to charity. A lot! Big mistake.

Most people wouldn’t see it as a mistake but rather a good thing. It is. Until it comes back to bite you on the posterior.

I now get five letters a day from causes I never heard of asking for money.  They enclose engraved stationary, greeting cards, cash (yes, they send ME money) and other "gifts" to entice me to give. How many too thin potholders, skimpy blankets and tiny reusable shopping bags does a person need? Not to mention the personalized address labels. That seems to be a favorite. I now have enough to last me until 2080. Does that mean I can never move? 

These enclosures used to make me feel guilty. Guilty enough to give, and give and give. Now, all I want to give is a few choice words that would have made George Carlin blush.

Where the heck are they getting the money for these mass mailings anyway? Why aren’t they using the money I’ve already sent to fulfill the promises of care for the afflicted and research for the cure instead of hounding me incessantly for more? They’re only going to use my money to send me more junk. If I want tiny engraved pencils, I’ll go buy them. 

And please don’t get me started on those annoying in-the-middle-of-dinner phone calls that bypass my “Do Not Call” injunction. They used to be polite exchanges between a solicitor and citizen. Now they’re shakedowns. For example, “Hello, Miss #@_*%$#!” or some other mispronounced version of my name. The mispronunciation is a clear indicator this is not a call from anyone who knows me but rather from someone who wants my money. Most of the time they work around my troublesome last name and call me by my first name.  Don’t get me started on how irksome that habit is.

Their spiel usually starts with some sort of praise like, “You have been such a generous supporter of (insert name of charity) in the past. Can we count on you for a hundred dollars at this time?” First, I gasp  at the audacity of the amount they expect me to give since these calls come on a weekly basis. Then I realize I have never donated to any such charity. I try politeness at first, saying something like, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the resources to donate to every charity that asks,” and prepare to hang up. That’s never good enough for them. They come back with, “Perhaps you can give us fifty dollars.” Still calm, I say, “No, I can’t.”  Then the hondling begins. They keep reducing the price and my refusals keep getting firmer until I’m compelled to slam the phone down on them.

These people have forced me to take drastic measures. Now I refuse to answer any call from a number I don’t recognize. The downside of this method of containment is that I may miss a call from someone I might want to talk to.

Moreover, it’s getting to the point that I don’t want to give to any charity and that is not the way I was brought up, not the way I want to be. I come from a long line of givers. I believe in charity but I also believe that more guidelines and restrictions have to be established to keep those charities from abusing their privileges and donors. Of course, not all charities have been reduced to these heavy-handed methods of guilting gelt out of the generous. No matter how tough times are for me there will always be a few charities I still give to freely. They each mail me requests only a few times a year and never demand I give more. They send me thank you letters or newsletters on the progress they have made. They make me feel like I am doing something good for others and that’s what giving should be.

Plus, they know I don’t need another tote bag.