Charity
They were collecting for something called Haven House Children's Hospice at Canary Wharf station today. The lady stood forlornly there with her bucket while hordes of people charged past her through the doors to the escalators. I backtracked to put a couple of quid in her bucket, so that she would not go away thinking that City workers' reputation for being a bunch of rich selfish pigs was well-deserved.
Although I must say that on the one occasion when I went door to door collecting for something or other in Balham, I could not help but notice that while young and old, black and white, male or female, gave or did not give without distinction, the one set of people whom you could rely upon not to contribute were the middle-aged, white, well-off, clean-shaven, pink-faced, striped-shirt and chinos on a Saturday bunch. Clearly being a master of the universe leaves no room in your heart for the less fortunate. In fact, as a matter of principle, they probably think that it is the moral thing to do to let the weakest go to the wall.
Although I must say that on the one occasion when I went door to door collecting for something or other in Balham, I could not help but notice that while young and old, black and white, male or female, gave or did not give without distinction, the one set of people whom you could rely upon not to contribute were the middle-aged, white, well-off, clean-shaven, pink-faced, striped-shirt and chinos on a Saturday bunch. Clearly being a master of the universe leaves no room in your heart for the less fortunate. In fact, as a matter of principle, they probably think that it is the moral thing to do to let the weakest go to the wall.
posted by FBT at 8:14 am
7 Comments:
So you aren't suffering from oh-no-not-another-charity-collector-with-a-bucket fatigue?
Fact is that it's more efficient to make sure the charity gets the benefit of your tax payments too, as you full well know. Having said that, I wonder how many of the "masters of the universe" you met on that collecting stint in Balham felt superior to the common oik who throws money in buckets by thinking they'd donate in the proper, tax-efficient, lawyer-approved manner only to conveniently forget about it later and not give a d**m penny to anyone.
I just give whenever anything floats into my ken, if I'm not in too much of a hurry - and the reason is precisely because I know all too well that if I start thinking, I won't give now, I'll set up a tax-approved direct debit later, later will never happen.
Which proves you're a caring, sharing, Grauniad reader type and don't belong in the nasty FT-reading money grabbing city at all
A little anecdote to brighten your day. When I was a lad, I was hitching from Datchet to Swansea. I'd been waiting for a while around Reading, when a mini pulled up and offered a lift. For this to happen, the person in the front seat had to get out and join the the other two in the back. The driver was about 15 stone and built like a front row forward. I asked what he did and he said he used to be a copper in Hoddesdon but now worked as a miner. I said, "That's funny - I go to Haileybury." He replied, "Wouldn't daddy lend you the Rolls?"
You were going to Wales? Say it isn't so!
I was going to Dunmanus Bay, Co. Cork. You may breathe more easily.
Ah but probably boarded the ferry in Fishguard
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