Through actions, not words, the beauty and light has been struck ugly and dark. The words and catch phrases remain the same, but they fall empty on my ears and fill me with sorrow, I can barely express.
The other night, I was having tea with a friend, who attended a fund raiser for a Calgary non-profit which will remain nameless.
The fundraiser was geared for women in the funding professions and lifestyles; so as far as I am concerned they are capable, intelligent, compassionate individuals or at the least they appear to be on the surface when they are in front of the cameras, talking to other people in the industry, or filing their tax breaks.
I will however, venture a guess that indeed, they are brilliant for being involved with the specified charity and others, as I do have a penchant for being an optimist.
Now for the rub…
The question will or at least in my mind will be now and shall remain, “Do the ends justify the means?”
This dinner party cost $150.00 a head; perfect amount to gather people interested in doing a great and valuable service for a community program. Serving the dinner party however, were male strippers and while serving the guests these male strippers could be purchased to serve the tables of those who were willing to pay the most for their services.
Keep in mind this was not a bachelorette party. This is a fund raiser for a non-for profit organization bent on helping individuals so that they need not ever be exploited...in the manner with which the male strippers were being that very night…you get the point I am sure.
The table where my friend sat was served by apparently the best looking man of the house and his price was $3,000.00 to be demeaned, ogled, gently and subtly abused by women who not only had husbands at home but children as well…
Did I mention that the charity served children and adults? Oversight I am sure; but they do.
I know right; it’s guys we’re talking about - we like that sort of thing and it is to be expected because men cannot be exploited in the same way a woman can – in fact men are so notorious for exploitation of others, it probably isn’t even an issue at all and I am making mountains out of mole hills.
My friend, who is a woman mind you, is bright, beautiful, and full of love and compassion for her fellow human beings was sickened and became as angry as I have ever seen her when she was recounting the evening.
I can only imagine if this was reversed and the all-male funders on the guest list were able to purchase women to serve their tables based on their appearance.
Now let us be fair and remind ourselves that we are talking about raising money for a non-for profit agency serving a population of our society that may have and may be exploited until the end of time in one way or another due to circumstances that are beyond their control.
Now for the kicker or punch line if you are so inclined to find this sort of thing humorous.
Upon exiting this fund raiser, each guest was given approximately $250.00 worth of gift certificates for luxuries I assure you the people being served cannot afford nor would they identify as one of their needs unless by accident or coercion.
I recognize that I am getting old and the pain of watching the demise of the industry I love with all of my heart sometimes slashes old wounds deep in the back of the brain and causes my pores to seethe with anger, but seriously.
I learned of this fund raiser one day after an individual told me I was getting a bit paranoid even though I made some fair points (he quoted my blog on ethics and economics). I nodded when he finished his unreasonable and lame attack on me as a person then I smiled at him and said “maybe I’m wrong?” He laughed at me and walked away.
Of course I called him the day after I heard the absurd fundraiser story Katherine had told me, and informed him to do his own digging because frankly I was not his dog and pony show. We are good like that, have been colleagues in one form or another for several years now even though we rarely agree on tactics our philosophies seem to match through the fog of our personality issues.
He is a different story altogether. He has the popular vote of those power people and they never suspect he is constantly trying to undermine them…he is on the top 5 “smartest people I have ever met list.” He confirmed the story through a third party unrelated to me.
He then bought me two coffees; an expensive iced coffee and my usual quad Americano at Starbucks and paid me the bet money for calling me paranoid and hurting my feeling.
I then paid half of the $200.00 bet money to a large breasted woman…why?
In order that she would dump a portion of the contents on her white t-shirt in the very public and very busy coffee shop. I did not, nor do I know this woman but she looked like the type who would sell us all a glance of her breasts, nipples and all for a hundred bucks and feel no ill effects by the action because of how she looked. I am pretty sure she was silently asking me to ask her.
It was obvious she was looking for a good way to make a few bucks so I did her a favor really.
Next I made a trip and asked to meet the Executive Director of a treatment facility with programming available for gambling addicts.
“I’m David Lewry, I would like to make a donation but always insist on meeting the director before donating…”
“Ok sir, well I can introduce you to the program manager.”
My eyes must have been shooting fire at the poor staff member, “I don’t think so, the donation is substantial and I want to see the person in charge before I make it…”
“Ummmm….ahhhh…ok sir, please wait here, would you like a coffee or water?”
“Yes, certainly, a coffee would be great, thank you.”
“Yes sir…” I glanced over my shoulder looking for my father when he called me sir; my dad was not there but I kept my mouth shut. This was about making a donation and not a point about calling me sir.
He wandered off and looked as though his balance was upset by something in the air, unless the floor was slanted or one shoe was more worn than the other, it happens… I wasn’t about to point that out either, in case he had an inner ear issue or something which threw off his balance.
He returned with my coffee and a tall man wearing a very nice suit. The coffee was horrible, but I was prepared for that, which was good because my first instinct was to spit it out.
By the suit, he was wealthy, but he cleverly understated that wealth by not wearing a tie and smiling like just another Joe you might meet anywhere at all or someone you might vote for in an upcoming local election… if it was a very small town election.
“How can I help you sir? I understand you may want to take a tour and make a donation?”
“Well I do want to make a donation, but I want to tell you how and why first if that is ok…I’ll skip the tour if it’s all the same…”
He nodded for me to go on; I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable, his charm usually persuaded everyone to relax and follow his lead because after all, he was and should be in charge, but I was obviously relaxed and it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with my understanding that I was the donor and I was in control.
He didn’t seem to like that; it showed in his tense face and squinty eyes. The muscles in his jaw clenched and released constantly.
“I have a bit of a gambling problem sir and I don’t want help so that’s not the issue, but I want to help you…” I paused and waited for the unsettled look to grow, which it did, I watched as the gears revved up inside his skull and his eyes started to shine again… I held up my hand and shook my head, “Look I’ll save your breath, I am not interested in getting help, like I just said,” I smiled deeply at him, “I recently won a bit of money betting and I want to donate it, can I help you?”
He smiled now, thinking he had actually participated in the conversation and had silently convinced me to give him all of my money.
He nodded, “I think it is admirable you want to donate sir… I’ll just get the receipt book and we would be happy to help you with the donation, thank you so much for thinking of us and our mission to address the many parts to addiction…” (I loved the phrase “we would be happy to help ‘you’”)
I removed the hundred dollar bill from my pocket, “I won’t need a receipt sir, thank you for your time…” I smiled, put the bill on the counter, shook his hand rigorously, and walked out of the building…
I killed two birds with one stone! I was able to make some money investigating the treatment facility for potential donors and I proved another point to my asshole buddy, who still claims I am paranoid.
I am kidding!
I made no money from going to the treatment center and making that donation nor did I profit in any way when I paid that beautiful woman to douse her t-shirt with iced coffee; it was fact finding and $200.00 is substantial to me because I am not a wealthy man.
I thought about keeping the bet money because it would come in very handy over the next couple of weeks, but honestly, it didn’t seem right to profit from something like the events which preceded my gaining the money. No matter how I justified my need for the cash, something in my heart and brain could not steer me clear of the fact that it would have been wrong to keep it.
Seriously, I spent the money on good causes; a treatment facility which addresses addiction, a cause near and dear to me in every way regardless of the substance or behavior of the addicts involved and a young woman who probably needed the money for school and did not mind showing her very private parts to earn that money which of course is another cause near and dear to me… education of our young…
Now my rub…
I did not pour anything on that girl, but I did ask her what she thought about the fundraiser because an outside perspective on these things can help and the more people know what is going on, maybe some intellectual people will get involved in coming up with more clever and ethical ways to raise the money?
Honestly, she was interested in finding out what agency they hired to cast the party until I told her it was for a charity. She had no idea about my past or present life, but I assure you she was unhappy and became unhappier when I did not fold beneath her charms and tell her which charity it was.
There was no bet; I don’t bet. There was no future in it for me and it was not one of my struggles. I had enough of those already.
I donated my money to the treatment center because it did not seem right to leave that part of the process unfinished; a lot of friends who struggle and are recovering from active addictions in one form or another have issues with the gambling money being used to support treatment centers.
Keep in mind, these are people who recovered in treatment centers and feel a debt of gratitude towards them - this is just something they always thought was wrong. This is also something I had and will have issues with…just as I did when I was twenty three when we declined lottery funds for our agency working with the homeless because it simply made sense not to take it based on all manner of reasons.
This reminds me, now that the rubbing is over; I want to tell you that honestly, I am hurt.
I feel a deep sense of sadness over the change in climate which has occurred in the field. I feel like I may have done exactly what I prayed for 15 years ago…I may have worked myself out of a job or jobs.
Accepting things as they are is imperative for my sobriety and although this particular hurt runs deeply through me, I understand today that my time may have come to move onwards from working for agencies in any sector and finding what it is God wishes for me today and hereafter.
I recognize that my pain is just that, it is mine, but I also understand that it screams at me from the throats and heart of many. Even if I stop working directly for agencies, I know in my heart God wants me to serve my fellows and ladies alike in some capacity and I only pray that I am able to have and show enough faith to walk through those doors which are opening all around me.
I can see the high water mark off in the distance, the horizon is clear and the sun is setting. It is beautiful and it is scary, but it is most certainly necessary. Through the past few days I have witnessed human beings climbing out from under the shadows of their personal prisons, taking small steps towards their individual dreams.
That is inspiring and I have said those words repeatedly to them and that I am grateful for their voices of reason which cut through my own pain and bindings like swords, slicing them to the tiniest pieces and leaving me one step closer to total freedom.
Thank you
David Wayne Lewry