Throwing Poo

Saturday night Nerdy Squirrel, Esq. and I arrived at Hollywood Video (HV)in the culmination of our citywide search for disc three of Rescue Me, season 1, our latest obsession. 

As we’re checking out, the HV cashier asks I we would like to donate a dollar to the Starlight Children’s Foundation. N.S and I have both worked for non-profit organizations and, despite what you might think, this has only made us more skeptical, if not cynical.  There are (arguably) good causes and there are good charitable organizations, but they are not always one in the same. And then there are the scams, intentional or otherwise.  As such, we do not give money to organizations we do not know.  Not even a measly dollar.

So I asked the cashier what the Starlight Children’s Foundation does.

“It’s to help sick, little children.”

In the world of charity work, 'sick, little children' is truly a hack bit.  It’s the equivalent of a joke about women who like to shop and men who scratch themselves.  If Bill Engvall starts a charity, it would be to help 'sick, little children.'

“Oh,” I exclaimed, nudging N.S., “It’s for sick children, honey. The little ones.”

N.S. politely told the cashier no and watched me out of the corner of her eye as I gave her a disapproving look.

“Hmph!,” I huffed and turned to the cashier.  “Can I have a sick, little children brochure to go, please?”

 As we’re walking to the car, I read the cover of the brochure out loud to N.S.

“Hollywood Video and the Starlight Children’s Foundation are dedicated to improving the lives of seriously ill children through the power of entertainment.”

“No fucking way!” she blurted.  I love this woman.

“Yep.  Improving lives with the power of entertainment.” I raised my hands to the heavens and roared, “The almighty power!”

“Holy crap.  What a bunch of tools.”  Again, more love from me.

‘Improving lives’ is such a grossly naïve idealistic and presumptuous thing to intend, let alone put in a brochure.  Even in an organization like my employer, one that is attempting to cure a horrific, fatal disease, we don’t presume to improve anyone’s life.  Prolong it or make it easier, but not improve it.  An individual life can’t be measured like the energy efficiency of an electrical appliance or the cleaning power of laundry detergent.

Speaking of power, what in name of Blue Collar Television is the 'the power of entertainment?'  Did I not read a Tony Robbins book or something?  Is it the power to sit on your fat ass and stare at colored pixels?  Does it have something to do with scientology (No, I’m not going to capitalize that crazy shit.)?  I like movies. I like music. I like Rescue Me, season one, so far.  I like entertainment.  However, in my experience, the only power entertainment has is to help me avoid doing the shit I really ought to be doing.  

Inside the brochure, what you learn is that Hollywood Video and the Starlight Children’s Foundation are actually doing.

“In hospitals across the country, Hollywood Video is building Starlight Fun Centers: mobile entertainment units equipped with a DVD and Nintendo Game Cube.”

H.V. is 'building' a television on a cart in the same way that you might build a peanut butter and ketchup sandwich.   First, it takes the same amount of effort.  Second, they’re looking at their leftovers – outdated copies of DVDs and video games – and saying, “We’ve got all these movies and they’ve got all those sick, little children.  Let’s clumsily jam them together and shove it down everyone’s throat.”

To be fair, for a chronically ill child, a moment of normalcy or at least some distraction isn’t a bad thing.  I’ve not even against H.V. attempting to find a creative way to write off their used inventory.  But they better not brag that they are improving lives and they damn sure better not ask me to pay for it. 

The only real value in charity work is outcomes, not intentions. H.V.’s Starlight Children’s Foundation is not a solution to a need, it’s a marketing gimmick to get a tax write-off and build goodwill.  What worse is that H.V. is blatantly using of emotional and sensational language to convince people to purchase their shoddy, shallow product. 

Now that I think about it, maybe that truly is the 'power of entertainment.'