Service Clubs Good, for Others
Was it my fault? The stock market has tanked and so have house sales, while gas prices remain outrageous and the next president looks fated to be a black or a woman.
All I had done was something that had happened only once before, when I was quite young. Yes, I know that's hard to envision. But after I had attended Lone Star Boys State prior to my senior year in high school, I was obligated to give a speech at my dad's civic group, the Rotary Club.
At that time he was undoubtedly sure I would follow in his distinguished service club footsteps. He had logged a perfect-attendance record of over 30 years at Rotary's weekly meetings at home and elsewhere. He had then served a term as district governor of the many clubs in north Texas.
So I got through my speech to polite applause, no problem. Much later when I was growing my family, Dad would ask if I had joined Rotary here in Virginia. Nope. But I had thought of visiting local clubs of Lions and Kiwanis perhaps.
He snorted. About all they do at their dinner meetings, he asserted, is throw biscuits at each other, implying they weren't nearly as important or civic minded as the Rotarians.
Then this winter, as if to confirm his bias, here came President Bush to make a major speech in Stafford to members of, naturally, the Rotary Club.
About the same time, as luck would have it, a long-time friend and neighbor
invited me to a dinner meeting of the Aquia Harbour Host Lions Club. Curt Johnson wasn't recruiting new members, please understand, just hoping I'd devote a little space in my columns to the good things his Lions do.
Assuring Curt that my opinions couldn't be swayed by good food that was free, I nevertheless showed up at their first evening meeting in January, confident that New Year's hangovers and such would assure a sparse crowd. Besides, it was a cold 20 degrees outside and Va. Tech was to play that night in a Bowl game.
Surprise: Over 30 showed up, ate the good food provided by the Clubhouse Restaurant at the Country Club, and then proceeded to report on their charitable civic endeavors of late.
Not a biscuit was thrown, although available. Instead, members heard a report on how the Lions were helping save needy peoples' eyesight via several campaigns in poor countries.
Locally, team leaders then told of the results of their members' fundraising efforts over the holidays. Mike Shepherd said the annual White House Christmas ornament sales had netted some $10,000. The Christmas tree sales from the lot in Aquia Towne Center, it was reported, raised some $6,500. Also, Curt told how the annual Christmas party for attendees from Fredericksburg's Association of Retarded Citizens had again been gratifyingly successful.
How impressive. How industrious these men are in behalf of their service club. And how much I would like to participate? As a contributor, fine. As a member, well you know how busy we retirees stay in other worthy endeavors, etc.
Besides, I already help lead another men's club here, albeit one devoted not to service but only to comaradery--The ROMEO breakfast club. ROMEO stands for Retired Old Men Eating Out. That's all. No speeches, no appeals, no perfect attendance awards. No thrown biscuits, yet.
Further, I feel a continuing obligation to do what I can to help make the Stafford County Sun a better paper. After all, I have been writing stuff like this for going on 12 years here--ever since retirement from the government. Granted, my stuff isn't getting any better, but it's virtually cost-free, so who's to complain?
By the way, when I first started here, old Ben Bagwell was still the editor. I say “old” advisedly. He was and is my age. After leaving here for North Carolina some years ago, Ben's wife Jane died. Then this Christmas I got a card from Ben and his new wife Bev. They had known each other in school long ago and both had lost their mates. Now they are living blissfully in Pagosa Springs, CO.
Another former editor here, a young buck named Garrett Ebling, decided to return to his home stomping grounds of Minnesota. Poor Garrett was caught in that massive bridge collapse in Minneapolis last year. He survived and is recovering, following much surgery and such. Last time I heard, his fiance was still by his side, and a wedding is in the works as soon as he can swing it.
So it looks like my fate in life is--rather than to participate in service clubs and such, despite my father's wishes--to communicate interesting stuff to neighbors as well as I can: To tell rather than sell. Sorry, Lions.
All I had done was something that had happened only once before, when I was quite young. Yes, I know that's hard to envision. But after I had attended Lone Star Boys State prior to my senior year in high school, I was obligated to give a speech at my dad's civic group, the Rotary Club.
At that time he was undoubtedly sure I would follow in his distinguished service club footsteps. He had logged a perfect-attendance record of over 30 years at Rotary's weekly meetings at home and elsewhere. He had then served a term as district governor of the many clubs in north Texas.
So I got through my speech to polite applause, no problem. Much later when I was growing my family, Dad would ask if I had joined Rotary here in Virginia. Nope. But I had thought of visiting local clubs of Lions and Kiwanis perhaps.
He snorted. About all they do at their dinner meetings, he asserted, is throw biscuits at each other, implying they weren't nearly as important or civic minded as the Rotarians.
Then this winter, as if to confirm his bias, here came President Bush to make a major speech in Stafford to members of, naturally, the Rotary Club.
About the same time, as luck would have it, a long-time friend and neighbor
invited me to a dinner meeting of the Aquia Harbour Host Lions Club. Curt Johnson wasn't recruiting new members, please understand, just hoping I'd devote a little space in my columns to the good things his Lions do.
Assuring Curt that my opinions couldn't be swayed by good food that was free, I nevertheless showed up at their first evening meeting in January, confident that New Year's hangovers and such would assure a sparse crowd. Besides, it was a cold 20 degrees outside and Va. Tech was to play that night in a Bowl game.
Surprise: Over 30 showed up, ate the good food provided by the Clubhouse Restaurant at the Country Club, and then proceeded to report on their charitable civic endeavors of late.
Not a biscuit was thrown, although available. Instead, members heard a report on how the Lions were helping save needy peoples' eyesight via several campaigns in poor countries.
Locally, team leaders then told of the results of their members' fundraising efforts over the holidays. Mike Shepherd said the annual White House Christmas ornament sales had netted some $10,000. The Christmas tree sales from the lot in Aquia Towne Center, it was reported, raised some $6,500. Also, Curt told how the annual Christmas party for attendees from Fredericksburg's Association of Retarded Citizens had again been gratifyingly successful.
How impressive. How industrious these men are in behalf of their service club. And how much I would like to participate? As a contributor, fine. As a member, well you know how busy we retirees stay in other worthy endeavors, etc.
Besides, I already help lead another men's club here, albeit one devoted not to service but only to comaradery--The ROMEO breakfast club. ROMEO stands for Retired Old Men Eating Out. That's all. No speeches, no appeals, no perfect attendance awards. No thrown biscuits, yet.
Further, I feel a continuing obligation to do what I can to help make the Stafford County Sun a better paper. After all, I have been writing stuff like this for going on 12 years here--ever since retirement from the government. Granted, my stuff isn't getting any better, but it's virtually cost-free, so who's to complain?
By the way, when I first started here, old Ben Bagwell was still the editor. I say “old” advisedly. He was and is my age. After leaving here for North Carolina some years ago, Ben's wife Jane died. Then this Christmas I got a card from Ben and his new wife Bev. They had known each other in school long ago and both had lost their mates. Now they are living blissfully in Pagosa Springs, CO.
Another former editor here, a young buck named Garrett Ebling, decided to return to his home stomping grounds of Minnesota. Poor Garrett was caught in that massive bridge collapse in Minneapolis last year. He survived and is recovering, following much surgery and such. Last time I heard, his fiance was still by his side, and a wedding is in the works as soon as he can swing it.
So it looks like my fate in life is--rather than to participate in service clubs and such, despite my father's wishes--to communicate interesting stuff to neighbors as well as I can: To tell rather than sell. Sorry, Lions.
posted by Ben Blankenship at
12:41 PM
