377 days - Blog #16 or My Ice Bucket

This is my ice bucket.

Actually, it belonged to my parents.  It may have been a wedding/ wedding shower gift from the early 1970’s.  That’s how it ended up in this dining room.  Last summer, you see, I had a 1970s birthday party.  I asked to borrow it.  My mother said keep it.  Yeah, it has that vinyl wood style… but that ice bucket, to me, is Epiphany and birthday parties when I was 4, 5, 6 and my whole family would come over for a cookout in the backyard.  It is 4^th of July and some other odd special occasion when one needed to have ice available to add to a guest’s drink.

On that birthday party, I asked friends not to bring presents.  I did ask them, if so inclined to be generous, to give a donation to my brother-in-law’s amazing high school band.  I posted it on Facebook and passed a can at the party.  At the end of it, I collected just over $200, most of it online.  It was surprising that some friends I barely talk to on Facebook contributed… and then people who come here and drink my booze – booze that would cost $7-$10 a glass some place else didn’t give anything.  I also spent well over $200 to put the party together – on said booze and recipes.  But, I’m not complaining about that.  That was truly a gift I gave myself.  It just left me with the question of huh… what inspired those choices?

That is something I like to do.  Throw a party, obviously.  But that wasn’t the first time I used the premise of a party to give to a charity.  I don’t know if we can call it ‘raise awareness.’  I gush about my brother-in-law quite a bit, so I hope that is pretty obvious why I believe in that.  But previous to that, I didn’t quite gush over the Jazz Foundation of America.  That was the recipient of my Mardi Gras party in 2007.  That was… that was a helluva party.  I wanted it to be a helluva party.  I had TWO bands perform in my living room.  I had gumbo, bourbon chicken, a king cake, and hurricane punch.  Plus a lot of NOLA appropriate mischief making.  I put out a ‘gift’ box at the top of the stairs for people to leave a donation of their choosing as they came in.  Georgie Porgie was decked out in all his drag queen Mardi Gras goodness… and ended up collecting a couple hundred dollars.  I probably spent more than that on the party – but I did get an appreciative letter back from the organization that was helping musicians in New Orleans get out from the aftermath of Katrina.  I chose that theme and organization as a way to celebrate that very essential culture piece of New Orleans.  I wished I could have collected more, but I wasn’t discouraged.  I had every intention of upping the ante the following year… but I had to leave that fantastic apartment and, well, life changed.

(Incidentally, I had my charity picked out anyway – Make It Right.  Check it out.  It is worth some attention and a donation if you are so inclined.)

So that is a model I appreciate.  Have fun.  Give.  Have more fun.  Go home and feel good for the time spent with friends and the fleeting seconds between drinks and conversation when we think about something that deserves funding.  I embrace that.  I want to get better at it.

So the fact this ice bucket thing doesn’t sit right with me… well it doesn’t sit right with me.

Is it envy?  Because I couldn’t get my friends for whom I cooked and bought booze to be so instantaneously generous?  I am more than willing to consider that.   Or am I right in asking more questions because I have hosted these parties (and done some relatively decent research into the non-profits for whom I request said generosity), have worked many a fundraiser in several different levels of non-profits?  Because I totally get the amount of work that goes into processing a donation and keeping track of information so an audit firm can come at the end of the fiscal year and grill the adminstrators about risk and fraud?  Or is it because in spite of the fact I think I’m pretty open to the fact I care about a lot of causes and donating… that no one bothered to tag me (NO, that is not an invitation… just an honest question I asked myself)?

Maybe it’s because people know I don’t like Facebook trends.  I have used my statuses and blog over the years to voice cynicism about sharing my bra color or even just the mere act of a cut and paste “you probably won’t read this but every day someone suffers” kind of post.  I asked to be excluded from this group.

And I’ve excluded myself even more in the last several days by voicing my concerns.  That awareness shouldn’t merely be posting a website.  Donating to a cause requires an understanding of the problem – not merely the disease or social injustice, but why they need money.  Is it for research?  And by research, is it to buy an overpriced refrigerator or microscope?  To fund a fellowship of a brilliant student?  To build the necessary lab with environmental controls that will maximize results?  Or will it pay for paper?  Or the extra temp who has to come in and do data entry in order to get the acknowledgments off in the mail?  Or to subsidize a lunch with a pharmaceutical company to woo them for even more money because the influx of money creates a budgeting challenge?  At least that’s how I think.

But I also think… well, life is shitty.  People get sick.  Their families have enormous stress.  They need resources.  They need support.  They need access to a possible cure.  They need to know they aren’t alone.

Only… only there isn’t just one disease.  We all have someone.  Someone we love.  Who is sick.  Or dying.  Or died.  From a disease that science has yet to conquer.  We grieve.  We get angry.  We feel helpless.  Then we say, damn it, I have to do something.  I have to walk all night around a college track.  I have to donate blood.  I have to buy something pink.  I have to post something on Facebook so I don’t punch a wall or cry like it is never going to stop.  I.  HAVE.  TO. DO. SOMETHING.

Then nobody else does anything.  And it’s infuriating.

But then… suddenly there are someones who do something.  They say, yeah, let’s do this.  And let’s get other people to do this.  Let’s tag them on Facebook.  Let’s get their attention.  Let’s use ice water.  Let’s wear bathing suits or use humor.  Let’s join the crowd.  Let’s feel good about doing something.

Some of us are wary of crowds.  Or things that just keep happening so much the message gets diluted.  Because, really, the words are more important than the ice water.   

I like my whiskey neat.  But I will put ice in it to dilute it, especially on a hot summer evening.  That’s my association with ice.  It weakens.  It gives a different nuance, for sure.  But mostly, I think something gets lost.

But I like drinks.  I like my ice bucket.  And I like the idea that people are ‘talking’ about awareness as much as they may be talking about ALS… or not. 

So I think I am going to revisit that whole social evening mingling with charitable giving… and thinking.  I am going to set myself my own ice bucket challenge.  Whenever I take it out of the china cabinet, I am going to ask my guests to think about a cause that is important to them.  I will ask them to explain why it deserves the spotlight and encourage those listening to validate the worthiness with whatever pennies they can give.  

So if you’ve made it this far, I welcome you to join that conversation any time.  Or present one.  Because, ultimately, I think there are several causes that deserve the attention of an ice bucket.