Volume 19: Girl Scout Cookies and Red Cross Buckets
Plus, a self-help centered Bilski's Bits and BS.
Greetings RPR Readers,
Last week, I was stationed in San Antonio (aka, Military City U.S.A.) for a work conference, so I hope you’ll excuse the lateness of this edition of the newsletter. But who the hell am I kidding, besides Norristown Janet (Hi, Sister Janet!), I wonder how many of you even know this is late.
A month or so ago, my seven-year-old daughter and I went door-to-door selling Girl Scout cookies. The strategy, which my wife came up with, was brilliant in its simplicity. Rather than setting up in a high traffic area like a grocery store or outside of a marijuana dispensary, we decided to bring the sales pitch right to the prospective cookie glutton’s front door. I was the muscle, wheeling a giant red wagon filled with Samoas, Thin Mints and Tagalongs, and my daughter was the mouth. My daughter compensated for her embarrassing lack of sales experience with good-old fashioned cuteness — and it worked! By the time we made it about a half a mile up our street, she’d had sold nearly a hundred bucks worth of cookies.
Eventually, we made it to a section of the neighborhood I hadn’t frequented since before the flood, and a car pulled up to the exact house where my daughter was standing, and a woman I recognized stepped out. After immediately agreeing to buy four boxes of Thin Mints, the woman (I can’t remember her name even though I’ve met her at least a handful of times) asked about Ida.
“I was just thinking about you,” nameless neighbor said. “How did you make out during that storm?”
You ever feel an almost magnetic pull, turn your head toward the pull and catch somebody quickly avert their eyes in embarrassment? It was just like that, only my daughter didn’t look away. She stared right back at me.
“Yeah, we did. We got crushed,” I said, knowing full well my seven-year-old was watching the exchange as closely as she watched Bunk’d. While I was quickly reciting the basics of our flood experience, I thought about how often my kids must’ve been watching my wife and me as we fumbled through the post-flood rebuilding process.
What must’ve that looked like from their vantage point?
Bilski’s Bits and BS (formerly just Bilski’s Bits) - The feel-good, self-help edition
“Utopia for Realists” by Rutger Bregman. When was the last time you read a book that made you want to go out there and change the world for the better? That’s what this book, which I stumbled upon after seeing this random clip of a Mr. Bregman speaking at Davos, did for me. It brought back all the idealist hippy bullshit leanings I use to cling to but seem to discard little by little with each passing year as I slink closer to old curmudgeon status. Be forewarned, the concepts in this book are pretty radical. There’s talk of universal basic income (almost happened under Nixon!), open borders, not to mention a healthy distain for banking. Still, it’s a really interesting read. Before you write this off as socialist propaganda, keep in mind it was written by a Dutch historian with a very different perspective on progress — where we’re been and where we’re headed — than most of us over here in the states. If there was even a small chance certain a person’s radical ideas (everything that’s status quo now was radical at one time) could pull a lot more people out of poverty and guarantee them a better life, wouldn’t you at least hear the person out?
“The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck” (The documentary not the book). I safely avoided the book that tricked millions into thinking self-help was a cool and funny genre when it was everywhere, but when I was presented with the documentary on my recent flight to Texas, I gave in. And sometimes, really, really popular stuff is also really, really good. The content was a lot a different than was I expected based on the cute, marketable title, and the advice about failure, responsibility and the fact that you should always be aware of death were well-presented and even kind of funny. Maybe it was the altitude or the two little bottles of red wine I had while I watched or maybe it was the fact that my flight had been almost cancelled and my nerves were almost frayed, but this really resonated with me.
New Reader Question!
I love getting questions, so please ask away (and it doesn’t have to be flood related). This one comes from Claire in Delaware (name/location OK’d).
What was the most strange experience you had during the flood and/or rebuilding process?
There were plenty of strange moments — wading through my living room in the endless post-midnight hours was definitely up there, as was visiting the FEMA help center, but hands down, the strangest, most surreal moment was when the aid workers showed up with the Red Cross buckets. I was emptying debris out of my house when two woman came walking down my driveway carrying Red Cross-logoed buckets filled with clean-up supplies (gloves, trash bags, mops, etc.) when I thought to myself, I wonder what they want? I didn’t even register they might be bringing those buckets to me until they asked if the homeowner was available. Then it hit me. Oh, of course, those buckets are for me! Something about Red Cross volunteers delivering supplies directly to me really hammered home just how serious the situation was.
As always, leave your in the comments section (or in any post) or email me directly at jrdbilski@gmail. Finally, if you’re enjoying what you read, consider sharing with others using either of buttons below my signature (or on any of the Share buttons sprinkled throughout). Remember, word-of-mouth is the best way for me to grow this thing.
Til Next Time,
Jared
Always great but I want to know why I didn't get a knock on my door to buy girl scout cookies 😕 ❤️