Turn them pockets
Inside out!
Everybody knows a flock of people are responsible for the success of last year’s 1200 Club fundraiser for the Second Harvest Food Bank of Clark, Champaign and Logan Counties.
Successful to the tune of $130,000.
But I’m the one who got the awards – me.
Not one award, not two, but one, two, three.
And it’s driving me crazy.
Because not one of the awards – not one – involved a leg with a lamp on top.
After the first two disappointments, I thought it was on my way when the last award called me a Luminary. Luminary, lamp, I mean, it seemed a no-brainer to me.
Still, even I knew I’d gone over the edge last week when I sat up in bed in the middle of the night and shouted out the opening lines of today’s column -- words taken from the collected theological works of the Rev. Deuteronomy Skaggs.
Many will remember the Rev. Skaggs as the pay-for-pray fundamentalist preacher with a name that seems plucked from Twain or Dickens. Nearly as many will recall that he actually popped like an alien out of the chest of long-time WLW DJ Gary Burbank, aka His Hilariousness.
My wife didn’t wake up the other night until I got to the thrilling “turn your pockets” part.
But, bless her, she got into the spirit of things right away. After opening one eye and saying, “O, Brother, what art thou?” she decided to pull the covers back over her head, choosing the sleeping nightmare over the matrimonial one.
As in Dickens’ Christmas Carol, the timing of the Rev. Skaggs’ visitation to my bed chamber was perfect.
Congress had narrowly averted a constipational crisis. After donations to campaigns on both sides of the aisle from the Financial Laxatives Council – the lower chamber decided to send $600 of stimulus money out to all but the wealthiest.
When the president signed the legislation before finishing the back nine at Mar- a-Lago, the nation was assured that checks would be delivered to people who desperately need it as well as those who desperately don’t.
My wife assures me that I’m the latter.
She also told me that, if I had a conscience – which she knows very well that I don’t – I’d once again pass along that $600 to help those who are really in need, like I did with the $1,200 last year.
And I will, for two reasons.
First, because in our 45th year of marriage, the only thing I like better than saying “Yes, Dear,” is “You were right, Dear.”
The reason?
That illusive lamp.
And because I know you all want me to get it so I don’t get any worse, I’m asking you to help me again.
Here’s the way I see it.
Although I donated my stimulus check last year – and many of you followed suit (hugs and kisses) – that was all house money. Money sent to me by the government.
And giving the latest $600 in Trump-and-Pelosi Bucks would be the same.
That’s still very cool for the food bank: 600 bucks is 600 bucks.
But if Amazon is ever going to plop a box on my front porch with fra-GEE-lay printed on the outside, I have to come up with a personal match of some earnest money -- money that makes it look like you’re earnest.
Which is at least another 600 bucks.
Look, I know that fishing that much out of the bank may seem a little much – and no one is obligated to do so. But if I throw in the $600, it would make my average personal donation to the food bank $300 a year for the two most critical years of this historical pandemic and economic downturn.
Major award judges are going to love that, even the Russian judge, or, if you prefer, the China judge.
And I’m thinking that a truly charitable soul out there might feel good about it -- particularly 10 years from now when we look back at this time.
Because I’m retired on a pension, it’s frankly a piece of cake.
I never lost a cent of income last year. I’m also lucky enough to have a 401K to which my employer contributed.
And while the 2020 economy was statistically eliminated from the playoffs about the time the Bengals were, the stock market’s been doing fine, which means I’m covered for the donation, no problem.
Then there’s the clincher – the most crucial reason you should do what I plan to do. If you make your total donation $1,200, I don’t have to go through the trouble of changing it to the 600 club.
And as I sit here on a beach with julienned cucumber slices on my eyes and a pedicure in progress, there’s nothing I’d rather not be bothered with.
Conditions for this year’s 1200 Club?
As lax as last year.
Give whatever you can, either by mailing a check to the Second Harvest Food Bank at 20 N. Murray St., Springfield OH 45503 or by going to www.theshfb.org and following the directions.
(Twenty-five dollars will buy 125 meals.)
If you support another worthy organization instead, please do so. There’s an option for that on the food bank’s donation page. And even though I had nothing to do with that, it can make me look more magnanimous.
I do have one heads-up for you: If you’re not giving $1,200, don’t click on the website’s 1200 Club spot. That’s only for donations at that level. Click on the orange “Other” button, then mention the club in the spot below where it says “I want my donation to be dedicated to.”
But remember, you’re a full-fledged member no matter what you give, cause I’ll be at the door to let you see me while I wave you through.
On the other hand, if adding your own $600 to the Don-and-Nancy bucks isn’t a stretch – and you know who you are out there -- well, it’s like the Rev. Skaggs says.
Don’t make me holler, don’t make me shout, turn them pockets inside out!!!
Cause I want that lamp.