The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Early this morning I got a phone call. Lately all my calls are from charitable organizations asking for help. I figure mostly they’re legit, but how would anyone know? Breast Cancer Societies, Police Benevolence, Fire Fighter Funds, Veteran’s Organizations, environmental groups, you name it, they’re asking for donations. Volunteers man the phones, cold calls, too much competition with hurricane and earthquake relief, long day, I bet.

My early bird caller today greeted me with “Hi, Grandpa, how you doin’?”, no doubt soliciting for the Lost Grandson Society. I said I was doin’ fine, how bout yerself? Well, my heretofore unknown grandkid wasn’t doing all that well, he confessed in a strangled voice conveying pain and anguish aplenty. He’d been at a wedding last night, probably a relative of ours I never heard of, and he’d been pulled over by the police and well one thing led to another, he’d had a few drinks but he wasn’t drunk, he assured me, try explaining that to the cops and so, here he was, in jail, in trouble and who could he turn to for bail but his old gramps?

“Can you help me, Grandpa?” he asked pitifully, muffling a sob. The kid was good, I’ll give him that much. “Blood’s thicker than water, Boy,” I replied and he asked me to write down his case number and the name of his public defender who I could wire the money to. By then I’d tired of the charade and hung up. Two minutes later his court appointed attorney called me back.

“You little low-life creep. What rock do you live under?” Which prompted an immediate click, then on to the next phone number on the list. I’ve been botherd by this all day. One call in a hundred they must get a poor Alzheimer person, an elderly man or woman with a good heart who can’t recall their kids’ names now much less their grandkids’, who might want to help Little Billy who’s stuck in a jailcell, only asking for $1000 for bail.

It’s a cruel enough world without filling the kiddlie pools with reptiles like these. I understand the folks who prey on the greedy with Nigerian money scams, but not the ones who feed on kind and generous hearts. My next grandkid, I hope to hell I do a better job raising him….

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This entry was posted on Monday, October 2nd, 2017 at 3:18 pm and is filed under rantings and ravings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.