No good deed goes unpunished

Mary went to a garage sale a couple of miles up East River road not
long ago. The house belonged to an old man who'd run a sewing machine
shop for some years, his daughter was conducting the sale.
I'm unclear on some details here, but somehow the woman called Mary
today to ask for a bit of help. The house is now in foreclosure
because the old man (now 80) had kept remortgaging it to keep his
sewing machine biz afloat. His daughter is trying to finish things
up because he's moved elsewhere, the heat is off (cold in the
house), the bank is gonna take it over on Friday, her little boy is
sick today, could Mary perhaps come keep an eye on things for an hour
or two? Well, sure! So she did. Mary does things like that, very
quietly. She doesn't even know these people. My dad sometimes said
good deeds don't count if they're attributable. Mar never knew my dad,
but she seems to have the same attitude. I like that about her.
Hokay, so I was on the way out the door with rangebag, ammo bag etc,
ontheway to the range for a shoot ... when the phone rang. It was
Mar. Could I come over with the truck to pick up a very sturdy
ironing board and a little Ethan Allan rocking chair that was about to
hit the dumpster if they couldn't be given away? Well, sure. Put
guns back in lockup, I can always shoot tomorrow. Grabbed my
cellphone and truck keys and off I went. I've gotten in the habit of
grabbing the cellphone whenever I go anywhere. I never intend to use
it and never turn it on, but problems do happen now and then.
When I arrived, some church lady was there with a couple of
sorry-lookin' "poor refugees from Somalia" (read illegals) scavenging
and scrounging. Mary asked me if I had a Phillips screwdriver along,
they needed one to disassemble a dresser they were taking for free.
Well sure, I always have a toolbox in the truck. Got out a
screwdriver, put the toolbox back in the truck and locked the truck.
I handed a poor refugee the screwdriver. They proceeded to attack
the piece of furniture. None o' my beeswax, I kept still.
Churchlady was yelling and shrieking at these bozos, confided to me
that "these poor people don't know how to use tools!" "So ya give 'em
tools" I thought, but said nottink. They were obviously not even
slightly interested in being advised or helped. Whatever. She'd
unlatched the cage, it's her circus. I proceeded to ignore that
fracas, carefully carry out and load the Gibralter-like ironing board
and the lovely little rocking chair that the daughter had insisted
that Mary should have and wouldn't accept payment for.
When poor refugee came out, he was obviously hoping I'd forget the
screwdriver because he had it in his hand but concealed behind his
wrist. I said nothing, just smiled and held out my hand. He said
nothing either, like "thank you" or something, but he did hand me my
screwdriver. Perhaps my smile might have conveyed something beyond
bon homme and hail fellow well met, but he was spookin' my tool
wasn't he? Yes, he was, mmm, yas.
Got home, discovered that I no longer had my cellphone. It had been
stuffed in the watch pocket of my jeans. Three searches with bright
flashlight confirmed that it ain't in the truck. Where else did I go?
Got the mail. Nope, it ain't in the mailbox. Brought the mail in the
house. Nope, it ain't next to the mail on the table. Where else had I
gone? Nowhere. It ain't in the driveway or in the grass. Conclusion:
it ain't here.
Went back, did a walkthru everywhere I'd been in that house. No
cellphone. I'd have seen it if it was there, because there wasn't
much left in that house and I'd only gone a couple of places in it.
Checked the yard from front door to truck Nope. Hm. Went home,
got metal detector, returned. Confirmed that it easily detected a
jack knife in the grass. Swept the yard in regions I'd traversed.
Nada. My strong bet is that it fell out of my pocket when I squatted
down to examine and then pick up the rocking chair, and it wasn't on
the floor more than a minute before its shiny presence was spotted and
Oh well! The cellphone was only 20 bux, and Mar got a really nice
ironing board and rocker out of the deal. She really likes small
rockers and not many fit her like she'd like them to but this one
Mar sed, "you don't KNOW that they spotted it and glommed it." I
agreed that I don't know it in any provable way, but we both know
it's so. She said yeah, probably.
I called Virgin Mobil and got the account suspended. There's only 31
bux worth of call time in the pay-as-you-go kitty, but I'm damned if
it's gonna get spent calling Somalia. I can re-activate it when I
either find my phone or activate a new one with the same number. The
lost one is now inop, at least on my nickle.
After supper we went to do a bit of shopping for provisions (bag
o'brass, box o' bullets, didn't need more pretty fabric or books this
trip), stopped at Best Buy to got another cellphone for $19.95. I
really like these Virgin Mobile (Kyocera) cheapo cellphones. I can
hear them better than about any other phone I've tried including
landline phones. I told Mar I won't open the blisterpack until day
after tomorrow, just in case the lost one magically materializes. She
said "good, you could still be wrong about the poor refugee -- and I
hope the phone explodes and blows his (deleted) head off." "There
there, Dear", I said.
I overlooked adding that enhancement to the last phone. Hmm...
Reply to
Don Foreman
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Yes, Don this is is indeed a sad story. Perhaps you should not share it. Coming from a fairly recent heritage of immigrants; to me your story illuminates your prejudices. Sorry, that you think my family has taken so much from America and given so little back. This group must have really hit your buttons...Somoli (black), poor, desperate, uneducated and prone to stealing. Just your opinion. Illegal or not, Don you just don't understand the desperation and fear (of death) some of these people had to face in their "parent" countries in order to get here. Because they have limited resources they are dependent on "church ladies" to help them find furniture, sheets, beds, etc. Sorry about your cell phone, hope you find it. G-d bless America. Mike
Reply to
If that cell account wasn't totally used by the time you cancelled it, there's a fair chance it's just lost. A thief would have got right on that phone and ran up time immediately.
On another note, with your help, I have that CHNC making perfect threads with an industry standard G76 thread cycle. The slot sensor was the ticket. But, it still took days to program the control.
Reply to
Karl Townsend
In article , mlcors> > >
I keep hearing violin music when I read this.
Reply to
K.T. Couric
I didnt know the name "Mike" was Somalian.
Reply to
They have violins in Somalia?
I thought all they had were petty vicious warlords, murder, rape and pain.
Reply to
In article , mlcors> > >
Come in by the front door, legally, as refugee or immigrant: Hello and welcome! I hope the US fulfills all your dreams and expectations. See ya around the neighborhood.
Come in illegally and start your residency here with a crime as your very first act: Get your fucking ass back out the goddam door and don't come back!
I can't speak for Don, but you're goddam right I'm prejudiced! I don't like criminals, homegrown or wherever they "immigrate" from.
Reply to
John Husvar
Prejudice literally means "pre judge". I made no judgements at all other than observation of events. Stealing from hands extended to help does tend to retract the helping hand. I've been known to take in strays, but I will not tolerate a dog that bites the hand feeding it.
Reply to
Don Foreman
Imagine what would be reported if the US had invaded Somalia to stop the violence?
Reply to
Tom Gardner
Nobody can talk that fast! I put a lid on it RFN. I agree that my inability to find it doesn't prove that it isn't just lost. It wasn't stolen per se. I think it was simply lost by me, found by another.
Reply to
Don Foreman
Then you misread it. It noted my observations of events and behaviors. How one presents (sorry-lookin') is a form of behavior and matter of attitude. Fine raiment and sartorial splendor are not at all necessary to be presentable when visiting another.
BTW, my grandparents were immigrants, my daughter is a legal immigrant in another country, and my son in law is a wonderful young man of color that we fondly think the world of.
Did I say any such thing? Not even close! If your description fits your family, it's not too late for you to change it. You can't change what they have or haven't done, but you can certainly govern your own behavior and contributions.
No, that's your opinion. I made no mention of color, education, nor of any predisposition for theft. I said they were Somali because I was told as much. Inferences you note above are entirely yours, don't attribute them to me.
I understand that I must obey the law. Illegal means "against the law" regardless of one's circumstances. You have absolutely no knowledge of what I've seen or what I might or might not be able to understand.
No problem. It was there for them to have, freely offered and freely given, with my wife and I helping. That situation exists because of another's misfortune, there's no reason one of limited resources couldn't help carry a load of debris downstairs along with the good stuff, rather than leave that part to seniors there to help. Their limited resources don't seem to have resulted in malnutrition or inability to carry out heavy stuff they wanted.
I don't care about the cellphone. I do care about having people in my neighborhood who'll grab anything that isn't nailed down while availing themselves of someone's generosity.
One of these guys was a gentleman, polite and willing to help with some of the work as well as help himself to that which was offered. The other was none of that. The first is welcome, the second is not as far as I'm concerned.
Reply to
Don Foreman
Reply to
Jim Stewart
Well said.
Reply to
Doug Miller
I'm not Don but, I have a few questions. Did your family come here legally, or illegally? Are you productive members of society or leeches? Have you added to, rather than drained, your community?
Reply to
Dave Hinz
-- snip an interesting tale of the event ---
You sure your name isn't Lazarus Long?
Reply to
I don't think so, but check back in 150 years or so.
Reply to
Don Foreman
"Tom Gardner" wrote in news:r7E3j.25009$JD.7506
That kinda depends on who's in the White House: When Slick Willie did it, he was hailed as a Savior by the US Press.
'Course, he wimped out as usual...
Reply to
She's right, you DON'T know. You just assume because a) you lost it, and b) they're black. Good on Mar for calling you on your racism.
Reply to
Edward A. Falk
It's only racism if it's not plausible and/or true.
Reply to
Dave Hinz
You seemed to have missed this part of the original post.
"When poor refugee came out, he was obviously hoping I'd forget the screwdriver because he had it in his hand but concealed behind his wrist. I said nothing, just smiled and held out my hand. He said nothing either, like "thank you" or something, but he did hand me my screwdriver. Perhaps my smile might have conveyed something beyond bon homme and hail fellow well met, but he was spookin' my tool wasn't he? Yes, he was, mmm, yas. "
Reply to

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