Another Bloody Canvass
Why, for crying out loud, do I do it? I detest it when people come knocking on our door, regardless of the time, the event, whatever. I just don't care to be knocked up, ha, ha. Well, truth is, every one of us is sick and tired of being canvassed; through the mail with interminable requests for funds, through those bloody telemarketers, and yes, through door-to-door canvasses. I've done too many this year. Starting, in January, with the March of Dimes. January? I said to the recruiter, that's crazy, it's much too cold to go out canvassing that time of year. Most particularly in Ottawa; we suffer through a surfeit of snow and ice, and coldcoldcold temperatures. But I did it, yes I agreed because, the caller said, she wasn't able to find anyone else on the street to do it.
I've canvassed for the Canadian National Institute for the Blind, the Canadian Cancer Society, the Arthritis Society, the Canadian Diabetes Association, The Heart and Stroke Foundation, The Salvation Army, and many I don't even remember doing. I've gone out canvassing for over thirty years, and hated every minute I devoted to it. It's not for the faint of heart. I'm faint of heart; no, not really; I just hate doing it. Time I gave it a break, and it gave me a break.
In April I canvassed for the Cancer Society. The following month I went out for C.N.I.B., then I got a big summer break, no canvass until September. We went away for a week in early September, and I knew on our return I'd have to go out and slap leather to pavement again, going house to house, brrr!; puts a little damper on the holidays. We'd been back a few days and I got a telephone call asking if I'd canvass again for the March of Dimes, in January. I said, for crying out loud, I've got this Arthritis canvass kit sitting here staring in my face, I don't want to commit to another one, get someone else. Oh, purred the smooth voice at the other end, it'll only take two hours of your time. I swallowed, gulped, said meekly: well, try to get someone else, if you're really stuck call me again.
But I burned inside. The nerve, the bloody nerve telling me it would take only two hours of my time. Show me someone who's able to canvass a street in two hours' time and I'll show you Wonderwoman! Truth is, it takes a long, long time to canvass a street and anyone involved with this kind of charitable fundraising knows it. Why else would they cajole in their literature to canvassers that they go out once, twice, three times. Write down the houses you miss because no one's at home, and return at another time. The canvasser literature is replete with statistics about all the good work that the donation enables, and you should be able to enumerate all of these points in detail to any enquirer. That takes time, plenty of time, patience and good humour.
Time certainly is of the essence and it has an indelible habit of fleeing. Time is a commodity of which most people suffer a decided shortfall. So telling me it takes 'only' two hours of my time to do this public, civic duty is downright insulting. Should this smooth talker, this know-it-all-person call me back I will invite her to canvass my street in two hours' time and if she's successful I'll give her the largest donation on the street. Not to mention the extreme difficulty of extracting donations (cold, hard cash, promising cheques, hell, they'll even take credit cards!) from reluctant, over-canvassed people, already harassed with the exigencies of everyday living and its myriad demands. Bloody hell!
Well, I completed the Arthritis canvass, and hated every minute of it; considerably more in total, I might add, than the two innocent hours suggested by that dratted caller. My neighbours are really nice people for the most part, and I'm pleased that they are my neighbours. I can't say I really believe, given the circumstances (my constant canvassing) that they reciprocate these feelings for me. Many of my neighbours give charitable donations and they give generously for the most part.
Then there are the others. Oh yes, the others. I live in a fairly prosperous community. People live in fairly large single-family homes, and there are generally two cars in every garage. A surprising number of homes on this street have in-ground swimming pools in their backyards. And this, in a part of the world where winter is long and cold. I'd venture to say with some degree of accuracy that there are a scant three months of swimming opportunity. So these homeowners, householders, obviously aren't in need.
Listen, I'm not demanding, if someone gives me four quarters I happily write out a receipt. It's a donation, after all, even if it represents a dollar, far less than most people pay for a cup of coffee. Yet, when you confront many people at their doorstep asking them to hand over some of their hard-earned cash, their startled reaction is akin to someone facing a bold hold-up. Sure, there are those who willingly and even cheerfully fork over twenty dollars and more for these charitable causes, and then thank me for collecting on their behalf. But get someone at an awkward moment (as though you're aware what's happening behind closed doors) or when someone's having a really bad day, and a normally civil reception will turn into the encounter from hell.
But hey, no one's making me do this. Well actually that's not true, since I am making me do this, I am behind this evil plot to spoil peoples' evenings at home for the purpose of shedding them of unneeded (ha!) moolah. Because I've got to live with myself and feel bad (boo-hoo) with the thought that some charity will not fulfill its mandate because I haven't gone out to do my bit, I push myself to do it.
Gee, it's not hard to form opinions you'd rather not have about people. I tend, unfortunately, to separate people into two distinct groups: those who respond to appeals for help, recognizing that to do so is to perform a vital societal duty, and those who resent the need to do this, and feel everyone should do it, but not they; these people are obviously entitled to everything society has to offer, but not to provide assistance to make good things happen for everyone. A little simplistic, I know. But there you have it.
Damn!
posted by Pieface @ Thursday, September 29, 2005
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