Thanksgiving Memories

When I was a child, one of the best Thanksgiving’s ever for me was the one I spent at the Salvation Army.

Yes, the Salvation Army. My parents decided one year instead of feeding our own faces we would help feed others. They signed up to participate in the Thanksgiving dinner offered to the homeless, the poor, and any others that could not manage to have a Thanksgiving dinner.

I knew from watching television that many places would do events such as these and you could see people standing in a line serving the community of people that would file past each one receiving a spoonful of this, a helping of that.

So when we got there I was excited to think this is what we would be doing. Instead, there were already too many volunteers there that had secured the front seat positions in serving. They had no interest in doing the cooking, the cleaning, busing the tables. And they were not shy about vocalizing that point. But my father said to the woman in charge “we’re here to work, just put us where you need us”. At first I was disappointed. I wanted to be one of those in the line serving people. You know, show up randomly on TV looking like a great humanitarian. But that wasn’t to be.

It didn’t take long for me to realize no matter what job they put me to do it was really a gift, a blessing. What I saw and experienced that day has not left me. I learned the beauty of helping others by stringing green beans by washing dishes, by mopping the floor and by taking out the trash.

Each person served there that day had a story to tell only not by voice but upon their faces. I was touched by each one and hoped in some small way the work we did there that day would bless them in the way I felt blessed.

As we finished up and the line of people slowed to a trickle, the woman in charge told us we were welcome to take plates for ourselves. As a kid, I didn’t have to be told twice, I hurried up and loaded up on each item and carefully wrapped my plate in Saran Wrap to take my treasure home with me.

Soon a new wave of people showed up, yes they were late to the party but it was obvious they were cold, and hungry. The workers had all taken plates and the line servers had left. There was very little food remaining. All but three of those people got served and the food ran out. My family and I each had a plate. My father didn’t hesitate to hand over his plate to the man, my mother gave hers to his son. Seeing this I looked at my prize I had so carefully collected and with a slight pang I handed over my plate to the woman with them. I’m not a good enough writer to describe the looks on their faces. The gratefulness in which they were so obviously filled with. I only know for certain, it did make a difference.

It was by far the best Thanksgiving I have ever had in my life. I am thankful for many things and I am blessed in many ways. Thank you mom and dad, you guys are the best examples of fine human beings and I love you both dearly.

In closing, it is my hope, my wish and my most sincere desire that you have all had a wonderful Thanksgiving with your families today.

I Don't Care

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged, but I have a valid reason. I’ve been busy. Taking “your” photographs, and processing “your” pictures. I love it really. My job is the greatest. I meet great people, always happy to be photographed and I get to practice my art which is one of my all time favorite things to do. But that’s not why I’m writing this blog installment.

Recently, whilst minding my own business, going through props and sorting texture backgrounds I received a note card. Now that’s not all that unusual as I indicate in my profile to drop me a note card for scheduling shoots and whatnot. But this note card was not about a photo session.

Instead this note card contained a copy and pasted conversation between the person that sent the note card and someone I know only by group association. I don’t even know the person who sent the note card.

In the card it was clear these two were having a disagreement. About what I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. The point here is, someone took it upon themselves out of anger, frustration, childish immaturity I don’t know, to send out to me and god only knows how many other people a snippet of an argument evidently in an attempt to shame the other person.

Now for those who don’t know me, let me just be blunt here. First, I don’t care about your disagreements, your arguments, your passionate idealistic quarrels with one another. Those conversations are yours and the other persons and I have no need to be involved in it. Furthermore, I don’t want to be involved. I won’t take your side, I won’t take theirs, and I won’t pass the information along to anyone for any reason period.

The only thing you’re accomplishing by sending me a sampling of your war is to make yourself appear even more childish, immature and pitiful than you already are. I mean really now, how old are you, 12? Is this third grade? Is that what you do in your first life? Geez if it is, I’m thankful I don’t know you.

But I digress. I’m simply here to tell you, in the future, should you choose to make the same idiotic mistake again, please remove my name from your broadcast spam before sending out the text from your next juvenile squabble. Remember, I don’t care what your beef is, I don’t care who you think you are… if I don’t know you, I don’t care about you or your petty little war.

That’s it for now. Thanks for listening. Remember, let’s keep it safe out there… always wear a condom and all that good stuff. Not that, condoms have anything to do with this but it seemed I should remind you all of something important as this surely wasn’t.