Boyd Summers and I had a good midday shift today ringing the bell for Salvation Army, representing the Columbia Rotary Club.
I can’t say I like the new kettles. They’re plastic, and no bigger than a bucket, and people have a terrible time jamming their money into the ill-designed slot. The old ones worked much better — the money practically fell in on its own.
Adding to the problem was that the money, from early in our shift, was all the way to the top (it was mostly there when we started). Fortunately, a guy from Salvation Army came and took the full one — which was heavier than you would expect — and left us an empty one.
I mean, we think he was a Salvation Army guy. He had an ID tag. After he left, I observed to Boyd that that would be a pretty good racket if he hadn’t been. Yep, said Boyd, and we kept on ringing the bell.
We had a high old time talking politics, reaching back to the first time I met Boyd, when he ran unsuccessfully against Jim Harrison.
We saw a lot of folks we knew, such as … wait second: Is being a bell-ringer like being a doctor or lawyer, with confidentiality privileges? Maybe so. And maybe certain people will give a little MORE next time I’m out there, so as to remain anonymous. Man, were those people hauling out the booze by the handtruck-load!
Of course, when our shift was over, Boyd and I both did a little shopping (I bought beer and wine; he went to the hard-stuff side). After you watch people come in and out for two hours (and we’re going, oh, yeah, that’s some good stuff — you ever try…?), you just have to get some for yourself.