Soulfest

You Did Come Back!

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IMG_1198Rare is the day I am out and about, and not be approached by a person panhandling for some kind of donation at an intersection. If it is not the kids having a car wash or the firefighters having their annual fundraising, it is some church, homeless shelter, schools fundraising, car wash solicitations or someone selling flowers, fruits, toys, shrimp or a hustler… You name it, they are all there. Sometimes, at the same time, jamming the streets forcing drivers to maneuver around them.

Sometimes you give, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you buy, sometimes you don’t. I wouldn’t dare buy shrimp on the street but would buy roses.

They look suspicious sometimes, like at the gas station the other day when a woman approached everyone in their radar with a story that she needed $10.00 to buy gas to return home to Georgia because she was dumped by her husband.

Just like popcorn, my “goodness” button immediately started popping, going into the giving mode. Oh yeah, in this trying times, why not help a mother who was in agony and fallen in hard times. So, I gave and then some, without a doubt and felt good about it, unaware that I had fallen for the cheapest trickery in the books.

Without a blink of an eye, I bought the tale cheap. Oh yes, I did but the surprise, however, was on me. I see her again, two weeks later while at a local supermarket.

She appeared in a different part of the neighborhood, this time with a friend and two kids, tattling the same old song. What she was unaware of, is that I was ready for her this time. I recognized her from afar and was not about to let her exploiting me or anyone else as a matter of fact.

Let’s face it. I am an artist. Perhaps, she should have not mess with an artist. We get faces stamped on our foreheads and can draw one with eyes close; well some of us can.

She walked straight up to me, yes, me, no one else, as if she knew I was a “giver”. I guess something in me read “stupid” or fit into her perfect mold because I could not understand her “straight shooting” target. Yeah, I may be a giver but despise those who exploit and use others.

She was out of luck this time. I was not having it.  She and her friend not only got an ear full, yes I looked like mom bear ready to attack but also heard from the supermarket security who was right on their tails with all his magnetic force. They run faster than lizards on the trails running away from a squirrel before they could scream, help. If such thing was even possible at that moment.

IMG_1196There are instances when one really feels that something to help but others…

There you have the panhandler looking plain, with a semicolon. Like an homeless who one clearly sees that she/he needs help but is dumped on the streets with the sole purpose of collecting and hand over his/her earnings to his/her pimp who is awaiting on the next corner. However, there are others who are sincerely in need, desperate; their clothes fifty, their shoes messy. Then, you have the punks who just hang out to make a few bucks for beer or cigarettes without a desire to get out of the funk.

So, it brings me to this story.

I was running an errand the other day when I had to stop at red light. As I waited for the traffic light to turn green, I was approached by a physically challenged gentleman, at an intersection, limping on one of his legs with a white bucket on his hands, fundraising for his church in exchange for a leaflet of prayers. Just as I was pulling money out, the light turned to green and with million of cars behind me, I had no choice but go but not before shouting to him that I would come back. Hum, yeah right. The look on his face said it all. Yup, he did not believe me.

So, I went my way, run my errands and was on my back when I noticed that he was still there, at the same intersection but on the opposite side, patiently spreading the word about his church. But this time, I was approached by a different gentleman and not him.

I declined and indicated that I was looking for his friend. Again and by the fluke of things, just as he was calling for him, the light turned to green, the car in front of me moved and million others behind me went bananas. So, I did the unthinkable, the kind of thing I would criticize any driver for and if I were behind me, I would be buzzing at me too, mad as hell that I was not moving.

I let my ethics go south and decided to go nowhere fast this time around. I was not leaving until I gave the cash to that man. Hello, my reputation (yeah, who died and set it because It is not like he knew me) was at stake here.

Just like a robot. I took the amount out of my bag, made a fast stop, slammed the breaks almost causing a fender bender, put the money on his hand and remarked, “I told you I was coming back”. He took it, smiled back, surprisingly touched and replied, “Yes, you did come back!”. Yes I did!

My Close Encounter With Pope Benedict XVI

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IMG_7598As we heard the surprising news this morning of Pope’s resignation, I went back and dusted off some pictures from last year’s trip to Italy that I have yet to post here. Yes, I was this close to him, could have touched him but would have to walk over the guards and they were not having it. Besides, I needed to take pictures, was too excited and could not see myself pulling double duty.

IMG_7600It was one beautiful October morning, one that I will never forget in my life. I was visiting but singing in the St. Peter’s Basilica, priceless. Yes indeed!

A Long Lost Note!

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AhnNote

I am a pack rack, not a hoarder, just a pack rack. I pack things I find “important”, interesting, keepsakes that need to be treasured.

This note was written by Dennis, signed by Dennis and Ahn, and left on top of my keyboard. I found it one day upon returning to my desk. Perhaps, it reflects the frame of mind I was in – I must have been feeling extremely blue for them to slip it – as I do not recall the episode one bit.

We were three unlikely individuals who bonded instantaneously as soon as we were brought together.

Dennis and Ahn were two of the finest human beings I have ever met. They were very polite, respectable and caring individuals. We sat across from each other and made up an interesting trio; Dennis this cute 5’7” ½ blonde Caucasian from West Virginia, Anh 5’4” dark hair from Vietnam and I, from “The South Chicago” another foreigner land.

To make the day less dull and help pass the time, we conjured up creative ways to make it more stimulating. Jokes were the main dish and Dennis was the ringmaster. He used to effervescently make fun of us both, mocking us with no tomorrow as a manner of fact, especially about our accents. Statements that today would perhaps be considered politically incorrect. We did not mind; it was consented and it was Dennis.

We were in our usual goofy selves one day when we noticed that Anh was weirdly quiet; he was extremely guarded, not his normal self. He was robotic and preoccupied. It struck us as worrisome as we tried in vain – while giving him his space – to make him smile but it was in vain. We were oblivious to the motive and could not understand nor grasp the sudden change in his attitude, and yet, we explored anything to trigger his smile but he would not budge. He would not even wince.

You see, Anh had his moments. He would sometimes dive into lala land, into deep thoughts becoming stalled and uncommunicative; so, we thought he was on his “zone” and just wanted to be left alone, needed his space.

We were thrilled and silently clapped when he finally came to himself. The smile returned but it would not be for long. There were storms brooding.

Anh had been absent for a while. We had no idea why but we didn’t take it as him being on vacation. If that were the case, he would have brought it up some point during our many conversations. So, we refused to speculate the worse.

It came as surprise however, a few months later, when it was announced during our staff meeting that Anh was going to be away for a while; permanently they said. He no longer was going to be a part of the team; he was not coming back. He was really, really sick.

The news hit us hard; Dennis and I. We were stunned, confused and surprised to learn that Anh was even sick less again dying of cancer – consequence of Asian Orange dropped in Vietnam. It apparently came as shock to Ahn as well; he had no idea he was even sick. He had not been to the hospital and had not done any tests.

It was not long after the revelation that we mourned our friend. He did not hang that long. He stopped by the office one day, all weak and pail with his boldy head but always sporting his contagious smile. We tied to be goofey one more time, for old time sake, by drawing pictures of ourselves in his head but he would not allowed. It just smiled and raised his arms in protest.

He hugged us and waived goodbye, promising to come back but he never did. He was never seen again at least by us. Just as we learned of his illness, just as we learned of his death. I wonder if he is up there smiling at the fact that I kept this note after so many years. Rest In Peace Ahn.