Uncharitable Giving

I am ruled by greed.

Not always, but at times.

Times like this past Friday morning. Knowing this, the universe mocked me with an ill-timed, cruel--and yet effectively ironic--teaching moment. Let me explain . . .

Every year (apparently) the Anchorage School District has this big push for an employee Charitable Giving campaign. You can donate to tons of worthy causes--Food Bank of Alaska, Abused Women's Aid in Crisis, Covenant House (my primary association with this awesome organization for runaway teens is memories of every time we drove past the building when I was a kid, Amber would lean over and say, "Look, Rahni, there's your home!" Perhaps she longed to be the third of FOUR children, not five?), etc. I've never been surrounded by so many people whipping out checkbooks outside of Costco.

I've never felt an overwhelming urge to donate. Well, before Friday, I'd never felt the urge to donate. Tithing has always seemed to cover my bases on the charity spectrum. As I idly skimmed the form letter, the words "iPod shuffle" floated up and penetrated my indifferent perusal. Yep, that's the shallowness that caused me to set down my paperwork and rush on down to the Curriculum office. According to the announcement over the intercom, as well as the advertisement, if you donated just $50 to the Alaska School Foundation Fund, you would get a iPod shuffle as a thank you! It sounded to good to be true! Shockingly, I had a $50 bill in my pocket (a rare occasion--I hardly ever have cash on me, much to the dismay of the many panhandlers who peg me as an easy mark), an eager skip in my step, and a pining in my heart for a cute little mobile musical companion.

Well, we all know where this is going--Of course, it was too good to be true. It turns out--due to unclear language--that our building's Charity coordinator had misunderstood the way the incentives were to be distributed. If you donate $601+, then you can either get an iPod shuffle, or $50 will go to a special foundation in your name. $601 was about $551 more than I was willing to part with. In fact, when I heard that there would be no incentive (no TANGIBLE incentive--I'm not counting a feeling of general goodwill as a reward received. I've already told you that Friday was an extremely shallow day for me!) coming my way, I was halfway tempted to run and get my General Grant bill back. Never fear--I'm not that superficial. Or brave. ;o)

Lesson learned: when tempted to get rid of money one is toting around, stop and reconsider after a break--your impure motives will snap the situation back at you like a energetically vengeful rubber band. OR, become more charitable and learn that giving should be the ultimate incentive.

Yeah, that last one is probably the real lesson.

You know, I already have an iPod. In fact, it's a better iPod than the one offered. In no way did I NEED two iPods. What possessed me?

So as not to leave you all hanging . . .

. . . in what I'm sure is EXTREME suspense, I ended up with my first inclination: my new(-ish) running shoe. To be more specific, the right running shoe. For the following, extremely logical reasons:

I'm vain--this shoe probably reflects my better qualities, rather than my beat up Danskos, which reflect more my reluctance to pony up for new shoes, or valuing comfort over appearance. Also, it matches my top I'll be wearing on Saturday--nice coincidence!

I'm gadgety--the right shoe had my Nike+iPod sensor on it (yes, I don't run for the sheer love of it, but more to hear the countdown of miles and congratulations that the anonymous man offers to me when completing a run).

I'm learning--I'm getting over the fact that I believe that running shoes are pricey at $30 (I think that's what a pair I bought in junior high cost). Trying to go now for quality over quantity. It's a struggle to fight against my inherently unadaptable-to-change personality! :o)

I like to turn anything into an object lesson--I waxed poetic about the fact that even though my last pair of shoes looked great on the outside, they had lost their bounce and effectiveness as a cushion between me and asphalt. I used to wear tennis shoes until the soles fell off, so it was an adjustment to me to realize that a pair may be toast but still look pretty and functional. Don't judge by appearances! Shoes only last about 300 miles or so, I've found out--much to my wallet's dismay.

And now my thoughts turn away from shoes and to this weekend's upcoming marathon!