People is People

I like people. I really do. I firmly believe that I'm a people person. But man, sometimes I don't understand people.

At the old barn, I routinely fix things which nearly any one of you could fix yourself. I'm talking about stuff so easy that a kindergartener could figure it out. So you see how I got the job.

But anyway, a common chore is replacing the wrong bolts with the right ones. I won't go into a lot of depth here, but a guy will replace, say, a steel 3/8 bolt with a standard 16 threads per inch, something you can get at any hardware, with a wood screw. Wood screws have fewer threads per inch and, more importantly, are not meant to hold metal parts together. They're made for holding pieces of wood together. Hence, ahem, the term wood screws. Yet this very morning I replaced a wood screw with the proper steel bolt.

Why would anyone ever consider that changing steel bolts for wood screws might be a good idea? Yet I probably make a couple hundred bucks a year just replacing wrong screws and bolts with the right ones.

I like people. But at the end of the day, they're people, right?

But I meant well

This is from the file 'There's a joke in there somewhere'. I'm trying to find it. Believe me, some days you really have to force the blog into being, you know?

Saturday morning I went to McDonald's for breakfast. As my charitable giving isn't nearly good enough (and it isn't) when I saw the sign asking folks in the drive through lane to round up their bill to the nearest dollar as a donation to Ronald McDonald House charities I thought, do that, Marty. My bill was $5.32, so rounding up would give a good cause a whopping 68 cents. Not much but something, and the whole point of the effort is that little bits add up to one large, uh, might I say chunk of change.

With three cars ahead of me, I forgot to say round up as I paid. You know how that is: time, old guy, forget. Repeat pattern tomorrow. Hell, repeat pattern in an hour. As I was pulling back into traffic I remembered and sighed.

Taking me Mom out Sunday, we ended up at McDonald's for a little lunch. After I ordered the young man behind the speaker asked, "Would you like to round up your change for Ronald McDonald House?" Keenly aware that I now had the opportunity to make amends for Saturday I replied, "Yes, I would," and feeling rather proud of myself. I would not forget my fellow man this time.

"Great, thank you," the young man replied. Continuing he said, "Your food is $11.95, so that will be $12 at the first window."

Not that I should have felt overly proud at 68 cents, but that nickel sure sounded small. Way to help that family at Ronald McDonald House with five cents, Marty. I bet they can stay an extra half minute on it.