The Peasant, the Blizzard, and the Rock Star

I was talking on the phone today and mentioned an ad I saw on TV: Dairy Queen is giving 100% of profits from sales of their Blizzard dessert on one day, August 7, to Children's Miracle Network. I said how great I thought this was, as usually such promotions run something like this: 'Come in and buy a Grande Meal/auto detail package/living room suite and we'll donate fifty cents/twenty-five cents/ten percent from your purchase to Children's Hospital/breast cancer research/flood victims.' It sounds good; they're giving something, but just as I don't notice ten or twenty percent off when I buy something on sale, a couple shekels in that context is a negligible contribution. Dairy Queen's drive is only one day, and it's only on one item, but the Blizzard is a best seller (and a delicious one!), which means that there are millions of people who would already be buying one that day. Moreover, there are millions more potential buyers such as myself, who don't tend to eat Dairy Queen except on road trips, who might be persuaded to drive out of our way on that day and enjoy one, knowing that it is going to benefit not only our tastebuds but children with birth defects.

The person on the other end of the line agreed that one-hundred percent was unusual and good. She then said that what got her disturbed sometimes, beyond the transparently less-than-altruistic twenty-five-cent contributions, was benefit rock concerts. She reasoned that rock stars, being rock stars, had millions and millions of dollars at their disposal, so why ask their less-wealthy fans to chip in for a donation which they could cover themselves quite easily? I said I was sure some do, but even with those who do not, the same principle applies as in the Blizzard case: rock fans, being rock fans, are already going to go and see their favorite star, so why not give the money away when they do? Moreover, there is the other demographic of those who would not have bothered to go were the money not going to the flood victims or the domestic violence program. Admittedly there is a dose of self-serving in either case: the band, restaurant, or furniture store looks good by donating anything, and that may have an effect of residual good-will amongst future customers - but that does not diminish the reality of the good done by the financial contribution made in the company's name. There is still an additional $100,000 or $1,000,000 in the coffers of the charity.

Additionally, none of us can do everything, not even rock stars. It may be a bit counter-intuitive and, well, creepy, that the members of the Black-Eyed Peas have more money than most people I will ever encounter, but not everyone is called to poverty, and not everyone has to give all their money away, or even the bulk of it, to do good. For those of us who are quite concerned about social issues, it can seem bleak and hopeless at times, since there are so many problems, and so many needs. We wish we could solve everything everywhere in the world, when in fact we cannot as individuals solve even one problem in one area. You can either sit and lament this fact and cry into your Chianti, driving the bartender insane with your self-indulgent whining, or you can resign yourself to there being great needs in many areas and then picking one to focus on. You can resolve to do what you can, finite, inadequate, and perhaps unsatisfying as your abilities and means may be.

If you think poverty is nasty and unnecessary, however deep your disgust at the global status quo you are statistically unlikely ever to hand over the keys to a new donkey to a Kyrgyz peasant. And you, not being a rock star, presumably lack the millions in startup money to found a new charity devoted to bringing donkeys to Central Asians. There are, however, millions of struggling people right here, and thousands of ways to do what you can in a way that makes sense with your life and fits in with your other obligations.

Let's take Poverty, since we're already there. There are both causes and effects; you can't solve them all, so you can pick one. Education, literacy, hunger, addiction, homelessness, violence, mental illness, loneliness, lack of health care, etc.: maybe one feels more urgent to you; maybe one seems more related to your existing skill set; maybe one would really push your skills in new directions and stretch you as a person. In any event, however small your contribution, you could make it today, rather than waiting for a donkey, a saddle, and a ticket to Kyrgyzstan to drop through your roof.

When I was at the animal shelter this was something we all struggled with all the time. We were there because we realized the enormity of the problem and we really cared about animals. We only worked four days a week because the work was so awful that management felt that three days of spiritual and emotional detox were necessary to keep us halfway sane. Still, we were there because we cared for all animals, wanted to do what we could - which was never enough even with the limited number of creatures under our direct care. What kept me going (for as long as it did, at any rate), despite the awful knowledge that we weren't making a dent at all in the larger picture of animal abuse and neglect, was the reality that with these particular individuals at this exact moment we were making a difference, and that their time with the other volunteers and staff and me was far, far better than what they had been subjected to previously.

And that's all we can do: pick a problem, then pick an aspect of the problem, and then roll up our sleeves and set to, in full realization that although we are not omnipotent, we are each truly invaluable. You can't beat yourself up for not curing cancer when you were busy bringing a housebound old lady her food-bank delivery and perhaps sole human contact for that day.

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not.

So Internet dating. It is worse. It is different. The latter is less amusing than the first, so I'll start there.

It is, I admit, different in some ways that do not markedly suck. One convenient aspect is that we both are at least openly owning our desire to find someone. Maybe you just want to 'date,' while I am looking for something heady and deep -- but at least we both know the other is looking for something. This shared knowledge makes first steps far less awkward -- and far more likely to succeed -- than finally acting after months of worshipping from anear the hot blonde in the next office, about whose romantic life you may still know nothing. That part I think is handy.

So, too, do I think the upfrontness of other aspects of it is convenient. If I breed dogs and you hate them, I don't even need to 'talk' to you: I can just read it on your profile page and move on, before being wounded by this damning knowledge long after we've bared our electronic souls. Almost every reasonable 'fact' gets out there, up front, disclosed. Of course there might be lies, but let's assume there aren't: I know you have six kids, you know I am a millwright, you subscribe to Boating World and I make wine. It can sometimes be the details, the minutiae, of everyday life that kills or sustains things in that real life, so having some vague idea from the start as to how this person lives his or her days is not to be dismissed.

But.

On the other hand, we are all so terribly complex. Data don't make a person. And you certainly don't need to share the same, say, reading resume or hobby list, to fall deeplymadlypassionately. Moreover, I can read you off some version of my biography and you still will have no idea of who or what I am. Obviously, culture has its profound effects, but it is not the whole story of what constitutes an individual.

Still, though, I think this deliberateness and candor can act as a helpful filter, and sometimes people who meet first in person do not bother with enough factual information but rather rely on emotional information, which is arguably better turned to later in the relationship, when there is more to go on and a baseline has been set. If there really are things I don't want, such as your six kids, better to know that now than discovering it after I've been smitten with your raffish charm and muzzle-loader collection.

As well, too.

Additionally, it's different because it is cheap and low risk. This is not wholly in the positive column, but there are benefits. It is cheap because you don't even have to pay for a cup of coffee before hard-dropping someone after a series of emails that took a strange or scary turn, and it's low risk because you don't actually know any of these people (well, not usually, and I would hate that). So, if you can manage it, you can cultivate a different set of ethics that doesn't force you to humor fools or spend time with dullards out of a too-expansive sense of politesse. Unlike with acquaintances, friends, or lovers, you can set the exact second of the end of contact. For real, not just in vain hope of it remaining so. (Unless you happen to meet in real life after pushing 'block,' and I would hate that even more.)

It is also cheap because these people really adore coffee shops! Maybe they are all really just alcoholics, and scared that one glass of wine will lead to nine, at which point they will be once more sobbing in the arms of a stranger about the cat and couch they lost in their last ill-starred amour, but more likely it is because it is much easier to figure out how to divide the cost of one Darjeeling and one Oolong than it is a Delmonico, some scallops, an appetizer, a salad, an aperitif, a digestif, and an uneven distribution of glasses of wine. Plus, coffee shops are better lit than romantic restaurants, and the means of egress thus more easy to hold in one's sights.