Anyone trying to drown hopeful moments, such as the one AZ related here, in anti-socialist garbled rants is an ass-hat. Eventually, if we ever wish to make any progress as a species, we will have to escort the ass-hats outside and sit down to a real dialogue across party lines. But this morning I should like to just appreciate Az's story and ignore the ass-hattery.

About the Winnipeg bus driver giving away his shoes.... There are also quite a few other stories on the web about people giving away their shoes. There's even an organization called Soles4Souls.

It appears that there's something significant or profound about giving up your shoes. It really does give someone something they urgently need; and with your own sudden loss of what seems essential to you, you truly feel that need. So different from simply giving money.

At any rate, mainly I just want to say to Don, John, and Shaun, thank you for describing the essence of kindness SO eloquently and beautifully.

We've all heard the catchphrases--"being cruel to be kind," "don’t help those who won’t help themselves," etc.--which come from some refrigerated intellectual space that fails to recognize the messy circumstances of individual lives, especially with regard to the homeless. We need to leave the intellect behind sometimes, and just give.

And thank you Andrew, for the fabulous new word, "ass-hattery." I'm saving that one!

Charlotte

I don't think the story is true. And perhaps the story of Saint Martin is not true. But mine is true.

I enjoyed the kumbaya moment, but let me ask you all something. how many of you have rental properties? How many would be willing to lower rents in order to have more of the he-turned-the-bare-feet-into-clad-Lord, moments, but this time with a more lasting effect? Well, if the property taxes keep rising, as the expected Obama victory promises, you won't. Just fleeting ones. You wanna help the poor, give 'em hope by opening up the huge national parks and parcel out acreage to them, which will let them know that you value human life more than carnivorous rovers. Oh hell, just stock up in shoes, folks. Maybe you can hand over your hats, as well, because sometimes the need to go is more immediate than the public toilet.

The real test would be to give you a pair of shoes, Skip, if it ever came to that. That would really test compassion! Still I trust even you might receive a pair in some corner of the universe--though I'd advise shaking (or flushing) them out before you try them on for size, lest you put your stinking foot in it again...since some of the greatest bodhisattvas have been consummate vaudevillians.

Nemo

C'mon Nemo, Skip doesn't need shoes. He already has a place to put his feet: his mouth.

Hey Skip!

I have just the thing for you. From my all-time favorite website! Just download the video and enjoy.

A quiet reminder that this started out as a celebratory thread. There's always plenty to moan about in life. Always, and I do plenty of it. And human beings never lack opportunity to show their gracelessness.
I'm grateful to Alex F for the story.

Or we could could value human life and carnivorous rovers more than rental property, or rent, or money, or shoes, or...

David R.

PS -- Thanks for the story Alex. Very touching.

I suppose as a non-contributor I should remain silently "graceless", as you put it, perhaps silently grateful that I'm still here, but when I see an elephant in the room that everybody else is ignoring I can't help but point it out. As for the parks and the wild animals, I don't give a damn for the sensitivities of whomever worships them more than human life, and neither do I cringe when anyone threatens to prevent me from respectfully injecting some reality into a thread. I have my limits, and being called graceless is on of them. Go ahead, disappear me and this entry then or leave it there to teach others of what happens to those who don't adhere moderately enough to the leftist board policies. Make up some excuse such as the one Senior Tenured did when he accused me of being a troll the first week of my membership, or, as I mentioned at the opening, my lack of translations. But I suppose the prime directive (ah yes, the movie, Network, a la Ned Beatty) of not confronting the authority of the Mod Squad will do. Fire away, baby.