Skulldude Rants -- Panhandlers

A N O P E N L E T T E R T O P A N H A N D L E R S
[Rant Responses]

       Sorry, Mr./Ms. Panhandler – you’ve picked the wrong guy.   Let me explain why.

       You see, I have a philosophical objection to both your attitude and your methods.   You use every means

at your disposal, from drama to wardrobe to makeup comprised of dirt and grease, to appear as piteous as humanly

possible.   All to prey on the natural sympathy of human nature.   And when that fails, you attempt to embarrass or

shame me into giving you something for nothing.   You beg loudly, to attract the attention of passers-by who might

possibly disapprove of my refusal to share my money, my cigarettes or a beer from the case I just bought, with such

an obviously pathetic wretch.   You whine and point theatrically at my full bag of groceries, the almost full pack of

cigarettes in my pocket or the change in my hand, so as to make clear to all watching your little pageant that my

refusal to give is not due to any shortage of my own, but is an example of pure spite or stinginess.   I say again –

you’ve picked the wrong guy.   Guilt doesn’t live here.   Yes, I have money in my pocket.   Yes, I have plenty of food

in my larder and a roof over my head every night.   I own clean clothes and serviceable shoes.   And do you know

why?   Because I earned them.   Because I sacrificed for them.   Not as much as my father did, nor anywhere near

as much as my grandfather did, but nonetheless I’ve paid my dues along the way.   For over four decades now, day

in and day out, I’ve gotten out of bed in the morning when I really didn’t want to so that I could be on time at my school,

or my job, or an interview, or a formation, or a meeting.   On occasion in my professional life, I’ve had to endure torrid

heat, bitter cold, raging storms and even tornados in order to properly perform my duties.   I’ve sweated, strained and

suffered through deadlines, long hours, impossible demands, sleepless nights and appalling working conditions.   I’ve

been cut, bruised, scraped and banged up so many times that I usually grow a completely fresh blood supply every

few months.   I’ve had to put up with sarcasm, hostility, rage, incompetence and borderline psychotic behavior from

customers, employers, clients, employees and co-workers, all the while without resorting to violence.   And sometimes

that seems to be the hardest task of all.   True, most days are good, and do not send me home so weary to the bone

that I am incapable of doing anything but sitting and trying to gather my strength enough to go to bed.   But over the

long years, sacrifices have been made – a lot of them.

       Suddenly you appear before me, and insist that I must share with you, an annoying stranger, the fruits of my labor;

the rewards of my perseverance.   And all for no better reason than that you are too lazy or indifferent to pull your own

weight in the world.   Simply because the last five people you harassed were so weak-willed or concerned with

appearances that they gave in and paid the emotional blackmail just to escape your unwelcome attention, you think

that I will do the same?   For the last time – you’ve picked the wrong guy.   You stand in the middle of the most

prosperous, opportunity-rich nation on the entire planet.   By simply being here, you have been blessed with a gift for

which thousands of people around the world yearn, and daily risk life and limb to gain.   You’re in the United States of

America -- yet you behave as if you were a legless beggar on the streets of Calcutta.   Are you kidding me?!?   If you

wish to live your life without even a shred of human dignity, you go right ahead.   But I will not help you do it.   Have a

nice freakin’ day.

© 2004 by Lyle Johnson

R E S P O N S E S

Clap, clap, whistle, whistle, applaud. U go dude.

-- Diana B.

[Subject of email was "Nice Rant"]
On a recent trip to Chicago we were accosted several times -- and they always preface their spiel with " I don't want to show any disrespect to you or especially your wife....."

Jeez!

We just said we didn't have time to talk and walked away. I always tossed money to the buskers and street performers in England -- because they were doing something for their money! The ones who sat on a mattress and said "please, spare change?" got nothing.

-- Susie D.

Dude. THAT ROCKS!

-- Janna C.

i like it and agree...

-- Sharon P.

AMEN, BROTHER!!!

I personally just like to gaze fiercely in to their eyes...to be sure to make eye contact...when I see one at the intersection holding a cardboard sign. While catching their attention, I will take a huge bite...really too much to swallow...of my Big Mac, chew as much as I can, and present the masticated remains out on the end of my tongue at them as to say, "...Hey Friend, can I share my sandwich with you?"

So far I've had no takers...

-- Bryan G.

Gee, Lyle! Are you OK? Did something happen with a panhandler?

I totally relate to what you are saying. After seeing a few of those investigative news shows I now believe that most of them are con artists anyway.

Oh well...

-- Melissa J.

AMEN and DITTO !!

-- Steve M.

True dat! * Followed by vigorous applause.* Now I'll be off to work on my rant to the drama kings/queens who keep going back to shitty, abusive relationships...

-- Mike G.

You should send this to the newspapers.
I remember, before I left Dallas, they were supposed to be getting them off the streets!
Sound to me me like you got hit by the ones at Dolphin Rd.

-- Chris A.

My sentiments exactly Brother!

-- Tim T.

THIS is smashing!!! Lyle, you have wonderful command of the language! Regardless of the topic, on which I completely agree, the texture of this piece is positively fibrous. Really, really good. You might see it come around again, because I am going to forward it to some folks who would appreciate it....and of course there cannot be too many degrees of separation between us, so it could work it’s way back to you eventually. Most likely it will by then be credited to Bill Gates or Donald Trump....maybe John Irving....like those emails I get every other day.

-- Stacy G.