DOING MORE? MORE WHAT?

‘Doing more’ is the vibe hanging over me, maybe you too.

‘Make your time count.’

‘Give your all.’

‘Don’t waste your energy.’

If you belong to a civic minded group, then doing more is a normal day.

You attend meetings, make plans, and volunteer.

Or you’re like me and your wife belongs to a group who gathers, makes plans, and pledge their husbands’ to volunteer.

That’s why she got the award of ‘Wife Time For A Life Time.’

There’s an award for that? There is now.

The first time this volunteer-by-wife happened, I balked, then agreed.

What I agreed to was helping set up an event.

What actually happened is I had to rent a truck, pick up the event gear at a mini-storage, drive to the event, organize the load out, and then help set up the event.

Did I mention that the people holding the event were older women? That their husbands were also older?

Not just older, but authoritatively old, like they knew what needed doing, were too old to do it, and bitterly gave directions to younger volunteers.

I’m no spring chicken, but I know better than to give huffy orders to volunteers.

As load master I nudged the old timers into action by appealing to their pride.

They abandoned their supervisor roles and joined in the fun of packing shit off a truck, down stairs, through doors, and into an auditorium.

Old men in their sixties and seventies found they had more to give by doing more than talking.

Their wives asked me what I said to them because they were more active than they’d been all year.

What did I tell them? Let’s give the wives a show of how this is done.

Then I watched for over exertion.

Luckily I had my kid crew to pick up the slack.

 

Giving More . . . With Some Help

Another well-intentioned group got the ball rolling for a local park.

My wife was on the planning board and her name was among others on the poster celebrating the achievement.

I was proud of her.

One time a call went out for park volunteers to spread bark dust on trails.

Local residents and Boy Scouts showed up to do the work.

I tapped my teamwork skills when I saw how they were organized.

Slow walking, slow shoveling, and disregard for anything resembling organized labor.

It wasn’t the same as organizing old guys to do more than they thought they were capable of.

This time I had to overcome middle-aged sloth.

Couples were dawdling around with their shovel and their wheelbarrow in slow motion.

Kids were anxiously waiting and starting to look like they might bail.

Instead of letting the situation rule, I made a deal with all of them.

If they could handle the wheelbarrows and spreading bark dust, I’d do all of the loading with my super shovel.

Super shovel? If I was going to miss my workout, I’d get it with a shovel; if we got done, I’d still get the workout.

Beyond that I had plans to drink some beer, maybe four like Mona.

As a youth coach I knew how to motivate the kids; as an old guy I knew how to deal with middle-aged sloth.

What I’m saying is I turned a wonderful civic moment of shared effort, call it extra effort, into a death march.

We had five wheelbarrow teams. I lined them up, loaded them up, and when the first one didn’t come back after the last one left, I went out looking for them.

This was a mountain of bark dust we had to move.

As the pace picked up the kids got competitive and the middle-aged couples got tired.

Man: My wife is getting tired. We need to slow down.

Me: Then take a break, but not where the kids can see you.

Man: Why is that?

Me: Because I don’t want them to get the idea of quitting before we finish.

Man: I didn’t say we were quitting.

Me: Don’t worry. If the kids ask where you went I’ll tell them you are too old to keep up and went home.

Man: I didn’t say we were going home.

Me: You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to be here either, but since I am I’d like your help. If you can’t help, well, you know. That’s okay.

Man: Are you going to fill up my wheelbarrow or spend the rest of the day shit-talking.

Me: Here we go. I’m buying the beer afterwards.

Man: We’ll buy the beer. You haven’t stopped. How is that?

Me: I lift and walk and workout on stuff. This is part of the workout.

Man: I’ll say.

Me: You’re doing great, now go dump this load and come back. Tell those kids to kick it in the ass and start moving because we old guys are showing them up.

Man: Yeah we are.

Me: And we’ve got beer to drink. You still buying? Let’s go.

 

The Doing More Movement

This is a man in America who wanted to do more, to help.

Wrong place, wrong time, and he ended up on the ground bleeding from his head while being ignored.

The people marching by in uniform know what they’re looking at.

They’ve also been instructed in, or made aware of, first aide.

Stopping to help the old guy may have cost them their jobs? Was that it?

When the job is to serve and protect, who are they serving and what are they protecting?

 

I took my dog out for a walk around the block like normal.

And like normal, my dog stopped to take a dump. On the sidewalk.

While I waited it out, an older tall lady walked between my dumper dog and a yard wall.

The dog spooked and lunged, stepped in the crap while I hauled her in, then went around me for a second lunge.

The lady walked past unperturbed while I apologized, then apologized for apologizing too much.

I saw her again on the backside of the walk and apologized again.

Lady: Don’t worry. Most dogs like me.

Me: My dog likes you too, but she was busy.

When I see a dog taking a squat I either stop and wait, or cross the street and to around.

My rule is to avoid dogs pinching one off, and avoid dogs while they eat.

They can get nervous when they’re doing more.

I was glad she didn’t fall down and hit her head.

 

Be Willing

If you get the urge to be active, let it fly.

But what do you do if you’re doing more and someone tells you you’re not doing enough?

Make certain they’re talking in a nice way, not like a chain gang supervisor.

Then keep the pace you’ve decided on. As a warm up, then bust ass and show what you’ve got.

Capable AND willing. That’ the winning combination.

Here’s a song about ‘willing.’

It’s called Willin.’