A Unique Pledge to Charity

It's almost complete. My Brother, My Mother, and My Self moved all of my meager possessions (I damn near live in squalor), to my New Apartment in my New Hometown this past Tuesday and Wednesday. All I need to do is bring clothes and a bed frame. It should be noted I thought I originally brought a bed frame, but evidently my family feels the best way to store six bed frames is in one pile, a point in which I vehemently disagree. Because of this, I grabbed two left pieces of a frame, and because I do not have some crazy bed of the future that could placate this situation, I am left frameless at the moment. The move went relatively smooth, the only issue being the fact both My Brother and I are woefully out of shape and carrying heavy objects up flights of stairs is at best, one of the worst things to do ever. Alas, I am moved in. I am not unpacked, just moved in. My possession sit in Sterilite tubs that spent the morning cutting up my fingers, my shelves remain unbuilt, but stuff is there, which is okay by me for now.

Now I must confess, I have been keeping a great secret from just about all of you, save for My Girlfriend and now recently My Brother and My Mother. The town I moved to, or am in the process of moving to, shares a little secret with the world. It has more interracial couples than anywhere on Earth. Before moving on, two points of clarification:

1) There is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's a mere fact.
2) I did the research, so you don't have to bother fact checking it.

So, now that we've established that my New Hometown (hereby abbreviated to The QC) has more interracial couples than anywhere else on the planet, let me comment on this utopia of diversity. It may just be that I am used to my Current Hometown, where lives approximately three non-white people, and that because of the lack of diversity, I am used to an environment where no diverse couples exist. Or it could be, which I'm certain is the case, the QC has borned a safe environment for diversity from its hips.

Before advancing the plot, let's have a flashback to when My Brother and our Strange Friend went to see a play in New York three and a half years ago. The play was the Lion King, maybe you've heard of it, maybe you haven't (if you haven't, cripes honkey, what are you doing with your life?). Anyways, the play was excellent, and whoever played the vile, evil (ever notice those two words have the same letters) Scar stole the show completely. Then the show ended. Everyone clapped. Everyone stood. Everyone continued to clap after standing. The cast came out. They bowed. One by one the big stars came out. They bowed. Then Scar took a microphone. He went on to explain a charity that all of Broadway worked to raise money for. I don't remember the details, but the charity raised money to help raise awareness and prevention of AIDS in Africa. He said, "You can see how this ties in with our play tonight." I have seen the Lion King movie several times, the play once, and I have absolutely no idea how any of it tied. Scar told all of us that the charity is something he believes in and that cast members would be standing at the end of all the aisles and by the exits tonight with buckets for donations. Sure enough, when I left, I walked by Pumba no longer Hakuna Matataing, but asking for grubs.

I walked by without donating. My Brother and our Strange Friend both donated and then took me to task for not following suit. "A jerk!" they called me. "How could I not donate?" they asked me. I told them, "I don't do charity." If this were Lost, this flashback would now end and we'd regain our current narrative about interracial couples. Unfortunately, I don't have a full six seasons to explain why that point is relevant, so let me explain why I did not donate to the African charity after the show: I didn't like their method of asking. Before the play, there were no fliers handed out, no mention of the fact a donation would be brought up. Then, after putting on an absolutely excellent performance, they have the clear star of the show (sorry Simba, maybe next time) get up and ask for money. After sufficiently trying to guilt trip the audience, they then ask for money while we are leaving. I had no idea what this charity was about, other than what the villainous Scar told me. It could be legit, it could be like the United Way. How the hell was I supposed to know? I wasn't about to drop $20 dollars in a bucket that could be split up as follows: $19 asking for more donations, $1 for soda, incremental pennies for raising awareness. It's like a family member you haven't seen in years dropping in, buttering you up, and then asking for money. Sure you like them, after all they're family, but the method is still shady. So anyway, the rest of my "I don't do charity" phrase is as follows, "I don't do charity...when I'm merely guilt tripped into donating without given any sort of relevant information about the integrity of the organization asking for the donation."

Back to now and the interracial couples in the QC. I can safely say 19 of every 20 times I am out and about in the QC for more than one half hour between the hours of 9:00am and 8:00pm, I have seen and will see an interracial couple. I like this. It makes me happy. I don't know why, it just does. Combine this with the the fact I now make enough money I should be giving some back to the community, I have started the following pledge: Each time I go out and DO NOT see an interracial couple in the QC, I will pledge $100 to charity, payable at the end of each month, starting in June. The charity will be determined later, which gives me enough time to do the research I require, but I'm thinking a battered women's shelter or reading awareness programs for children. I'm open to ideas though. The only rule: it can't be the United Way (that's a story for another day), but they can be supported by the United Way. Understand? Good.