A day trip to a town can provide you with a lot of things – some new clothes maybe, a nice spot of lunch, a visit to somewhere interesting, the realisation of how easy it is to help another human being...
Ooh. I wasn’t expecting that last one when we boarded a train to Edinburgh last weekend, at an hour so early even coffee only moved my functioning state from ‘comatose’ to ‘barely conscious’.It was a lovely day, once I woke up. I managed to buy some clothes that hopefully don’t scream “mid-life crisis” too loudly (unlike the dusky pink trousers I purchased a couple of years ago in the mistaken belief I would look hipster-ish, but actually made me look like a retired Colonel), for starters.
I even came perilously close to purchasing a cool pair of trainers, but my innate fear of looking like a berk cut in, and I concluded that footwear costing nearly as much as my first car was probably a unnecessary expense. (Bright orange, with fur-lined panels. The £100 car, not the trainers.)
Some lovely lunch at a trendy cafe where the staff worse shorts and deck shoes, and all the food seemed to be sold in parts, was great, plenty of cappuccinos were consumed, and even a fly-by from a flock of defecating seagulls, who hovered menacingly above a street corner whilst the lights were red and you couldn’t cross the road, didn’t put a dampener on the proceeding. Or, luckily, on us.
One thing about the day wasn’t good, though. It’s easy to become jaded by daily reports of ‘dole-scroungers’, people cheating the benefits system, and other such depressing stories.
So I’m always heartened to see someone selling The Big Issue, as you know that this person has struggled with homelessness and long-term unemployment, but is now working (and not begging) by selling the magazine for £2.50, which they buy at £1.25.
Selling it really does help them to help themselves, and they go through an induction process, have to adhere to a code of conduct, and must work within their own pitch. These are people trying hard to get their lives back on track.
So whilst we sipped our posh Italian cappuccinos in a cafe, the vendor on the corner opposite was politely attempting to encourage passers-by to buy one of his stock. The weather was OK, it was a Saturday, so really no reason for people to rush past. Strangely, though, everyone seemed to be unnaturally interested in the pavement.
10 minutes, and hundreds of people, passed, and still not one copy of the magazine changed hands for what is realistically a pretty small amount of money. Even my posh cuppa was more than the cover price.
I suppose what I’m trying to say without offending you is this: The warm glow you’ll get from genuinely helping another human being will outlast any beverage you might buy instead of a magazine.
Don’t walk on by. Your small change can make a big difference.
This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 17th of July 2015, where it was given a different title of "We can make a difference". You can view the version published by the paper on their website here
It received a minor trim, with the bracketed description of my orange, furry, motor losing out.
And in case you were wondering, yes, of course we did go out and buy a copy off the vendor.
Offbeat? Yeah... I can live with that as a description :-)
Robin news! Apart from the garden centre referred to in my recent "tweet-up" column getting in touch, I've got even more chummy with a Robin this week. Whilst up at the allotment yesterday, a cocky juvenile regularly got startlingly close to us whenever we tidied something up, hunting around where we were working for tasty insects.
Before we went, the youngster was so confident, it actually stood on my foot for a bit. I hope it doesn't try that one with the local cat population.
(CD A-Z: a-ha tonight, and the remastered and expanded version of their first album, Hunting High And Low.)
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