the man in the mirror

So I, like everyone else, has watched hopelessy the news from New Orleans, the rest of Louisiana and Mississippi. I actually started watching before the storm, when people in New Orleans were saying there would be no storm and they were going to stay in their homes. I remember thinking sadly that those people would probably be dead soon. Looking at the destruction, it’s hard to understand how anybody could survive.

Now I’m wondering, what can I do? You think about going down there and helping. I don’t know, drive a truck or something, pass out supplies, whatever. Certainly something tangible like that would be more rewarding, seeing your hard work pay off in real ways, affecting real lives right before your eyes.

But unfortunately, that’s not me. As much as I’d like it to be. I could blame it on having heart surgery, but that’s just a cop out. I’m just not one to get off his ass and do something heroic like that. But I don’t think I have to be punished, it doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. People can give in different ways. I’m not rich, but I figured a couple hundred bucks might do a little help. It reminds me of the pictures of the helicopter dumping sandbags into the breach of the levee. It looks like nothing’s happening, like they’ll never fill the void – but eventually they will. And that’s how you have to feel about donating money. Those little bits will add up and soon be a huge sum of money to help these people rebuild their lives.

But then I had another idea. I had set aside $300 to donate to the Red Cross but in spite of the ‘every little bit counts’ theory, it just seemed like if I could give more, it would bring just that much more hope.

So today I took my $300 to Foxwoods Casino, in Ledyard, CT with plans to hit it big and donate all the money I made to the relief effort. I was planning on doubling it, at least.

I lost it all. So now the Red Cross gets nothing. I feel like shit. I feel like a fucking dumbass because I should have known. I never win. I have the worst luck in the world. $300. Gone in under an hour. I couldn’t hit anything. Pathetic.

$300 worth of blankets, canned foods, flashlights, cots, who knows what.

Now? Nothing.

The only consolation I thought of was that it went to the Mashantucket Pequot Indian Tribe who have had their share of hardships in the past. Of course, now they’re loaded, so fuck it.



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