Ding-Dong, The Bucket's Red

My apologies for not having written sooner...I was busy standing in line at Wal-Mart to get my Hannah Montana Rock star Acoustic Guitar. I got the last one after I had to claw out the eyes of a pathetic 8 year-old who tried telling me that she wanted it more.

As I was trotting proudly out the front door, I heard them. They are everywhere this time of year. The bells are always the same, but the ringers...oh they come in many shapes and unfortunate sizes.

Whether it's the nice married couple trying to get more involved in their community, the creepy old man that half-way resembles Santa, or the 20-something who owes service to her community for getting drunk at 10 am before the football game and running around without a shirt on...Whatever the case may be, they are all standing in the middle of the mall or freezing their asses off outside of EVERY store serving the following purpose: Wearing a red apron and ringing a bell. I am fairly certain there is a month-long Salvation Army training program that one must attend to be eligible for such volunteer work, not to mention the vigorous wrist work-out video tape.

My problem with the fact that we are so consumed with what these people look like, who they are, and why in God's name they are there, is that it really is a charity. Those people really do want you to put some money in there shiny, swingy, red bucket. (Or so they are told at their intensive training seminar) So next time you hear the bells outside of the store, take a deep breath, sneak around creepy Santa-lookin'-boy, and slip a dollar in the magical fairy bucket. Not only can you chuckle and say "Well, I did my good deed for the day!" But you can also rest assured that if creep-o Santa pockets the money and runs, you will most likey see him there next year, serving time to his community.