Sometimes It's Better to Be a Good Person

I broke a rule today and I’m OK with it.

I’m typically a fan of following the rules. I believe there are good rules and bad rules, but I’m generally a fan of the order they keep.

Have you ever seen a cowboy on the verge of tears?

I never had until today when a customer was having photos printed for what I assumed to be some sort of memorial for his beloved horse Champ, who he just buried earlier in the day. Some of these photos were from a cowboy calendar and thus were copywritten. It’s the policy of the business not to copy anything that’s copywritten and it’s not just a good rule, but a great one. As a writer, I wouldn’t want someone taking my work without paying. As a music lover, I despise the idea of someone stealing music. But the key to this is making a profit or keeping someone else from doing so. This grieving man and his wife weren’t going to profit from these copies and they’d already purchased the calendar containing the images.

My supervisor had previously told the couple that we couldn’t copy the copywritten images and then she went on her break. While she was gone, the couple asked me if they could use the self-serve copier option to make copies of the calendar photos. I said, “Sure, but next time don’t tell me you’re doing it.” We’ve never kept tabs on what people are or aren’t printing on these machines, after all. The only problem was the color copier wasn’t working today, so feeling bad for the couple I offered to do it myself. This is when the supervisor walked back in. Even though the customers left our business completely happy and we made a slight profit she wasn’t happy. But, sometimes the “right” way to do something can feel like the absolutely wrong way to do it. Sometimes it’s better to be a good person than it is to follow the rules. 

If Only Obamacare Covered Being An Asshole

Growing up I had a close friend named Cody. We were so close, or at least we thought, that it was at times like having a third brother. We enjoyed throwing a baseball around for hours, stealing my brother’s golf cart and wrecking it in the woods and all sorts of mischief. Cody and I decided to go to the same college and become roommates.

Our friendship would never quite be the same. It didn’t take me too long to realize that my friendship with Cody had been more out of convenience of locality – we both lived 30 miles out of town, where we went to school, and didn’t have easy access to other friends. Living together, just for a short while, let me see that we really didn’t have that much in common. We didn’t have many of the same likes, beliefs, feelings. We drifted apart. I moved out. He moved away shortly after and now we’re more occasional acquaintances than friends and the acquaintance part has pretty much solely been online via social media.

The big difference between the two of us could probably be summed up by saying I cared too much and he didn’t care enough except for when it came to cultivating and protecting his own ignorance. I’m a liberal. He’s a conservative, though I doubt he could even tell you why. It’s just part of the family bloodline.

These days that’s enough on its own to drive people apart.

I was watching the second presidential debate between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump on Sunday night and at one point Trump was going off about how bad Obamacare had been for the country in a manner that led one to believe he didn’t exactly know why nor did he know a better option for the country. This bothered me and on Facebook I posted a status about how had I not been covered by Obamacare over the last two years that I likely would’ve been screwed.

Cody responded a while later to my post simply stating, “Trump all the way.”

“Without it I’d have been screwed over the last two years.” That’s not just words. That’s a personal admission of a person who generally could have been screwed without this help. And, not just screwed. There is a potential – maybe not a likelihood – but a potential that Obamacare saved my life. In early 2015 I lost a full time job. The job was likely killing me in ways, but it gave me medical insurance. I got a part time job, but part time jobs don’t offer insurance. For 10 months I was making less than $1000 a month and the zero dollars I had to pay on insurance thanks to Obamacare helped me survive. Not only in an economical sense, but it paid for the blood pressure and cholesterol pills and especially the CPAP machine products for my sleep apnea that truly keep me going on a daily basis. In late December of last year, I added a second job. Two part time jobs offer the same amount of medical insurance as one – nada. I work six days a week most weeks, making barely over minimum wage at each job, just to get close to 40 hours and I’m still barely pulling in $1000 a month. Don’t take this as a complaint. I enjoy both jobs, work my ass off at both, and even do a bit of writing, my real passion, on the side for free. I’m just stating these facts to show how much Obamacare has done for me and to show that I’m not some bum taking government handouts like so many are led to believe. Obamacare allowed me to keep food in my belly and a roof over my head instead of giving every last cent to my CPAP machine.

So, when I post something personal about something that’s meant so much to me and somebody just comes along and merely states, “Trump all the way,” without taking into account my thoughts, feelings or well-being, it pisses me off.

You can like whatever politicians and policies you want. I’m not trying to dictate that. But, if you take someone’s personal post, don’t take into account their feelings and merely turn it into a moment to show your support for a candidate, without backing it up with facts or even really an opinion it makes you an asshole. And, that’s the problem many of us have with Donald Trump and his supporters. He’s made assholery fashionable or acceptable. He’s made it OK for people to just say and do the most deplorable things. He’s made it OK for people to ignore the needs and feelings of others. He’s made it OK not to have to put yourself in the shoes of others or care about anybody other than yourself.

It didn’t surprise me when Cody posted that on my status. Because what was a moment of personal weakness for me – showing I needed government assistance just to survive – was a moment for him to poke fun at me about it all. It didn’t surprise me because I grew up and grew apart with Cody. I grew into what I hope is a good person who cares – even if it may be a little too much. He grew into an asshole. That’s what happens when one person tries to better themselves and another clinches his fingernails into hereditary ignorance.  

The House Feels Empty Tonight

The house feels empty tonight.

I’m awake and probably will be for some time. I’m sure my wife’s in the bedroom struggling to fall asleep and will be awake for a while too. The dog is probably fast asleep, but bless her heart, she’s been confused all night.

It’s a sad night in the Spivey household. Harvey, our dearly loved seven-year old rabbit, died tonight. I’m crying again now. I’ve done this off and on all night. Thinking about her does that to me. My wife was so upset she actually vomited. How can a little ball of fluff do this to people?

I loved Harvey the moment I saw her when she couldn’t have been longer than a No. 2 pencil. When we didn’t know that she was a she and she ended up with a boy’s name – named after the old James Stewart movie where he befriends an invisible human-sized rabbit.

She was among a litter born of two rabbits my parents owned. Aprille, my now wife, then girlfriend, knew we’d end up with one of the babies, but we differed on which one we wanted.  There was a small gray one by wife wanted. It was energetic. Most of these babies sprawled out on my parents’ couch were energetic – running about, looking cute as can be. There was a tiny brown and white one though that wasn’t going all out. It would walk a little bit and stop and sleep. Walk a little bit and stop and sleep. Something about this behavior endeared this rabbit to me. It’s beautiful multi-colored coat did, as well.

The decision was made, maybe too unilaterally, but Harvey was ours.

It’s particularly hard to write this because I don’t see Harvey in my peripheral view. My writing desk in the living room of our small apartment sits right next to where Harvey’s pen was – we’ve already cleared the apartment of her space. I didn’t think we could bear to look at it without her lying in it or hopping around or chewing on her food/hay. My computer chair sat a mere six inches from the side of her pen and sometimes she’d lay right there by me as I wrote. If I paused or lost my train of thought I could look down and see this gigantic rabbit and smile or laugh or reach down between the holes of the pen and pet her on her head. She loved being pet on her head, right between her ears.

That’s the great thing about a rabbit. They’ll make you smile. They actually aren’t the kind of pets that want to be handled much. They don’t really like being held or grabbed. They’re very low on the food chain and they realize it and even after seven years of being pet, fed and loved they don’t get used to being held. But, they love being pet if you get down on their level to do it or when they finally relax while sitting on your lap.

Harvey would always make Aprille and I smile. Just looking at her face could do it, but the greatest thing would be when she’d lay down in her cage or on the living room floor while running around the apartment. Rabbits don’t just lay down. They flop. They hurl their bodies with great force from a standing position to their side. It’s hilarious. I’m really going to miss that. I’m really going to miss the feeling of holding a treat down in front of her face and feeling her nibble it right from your fingertips too.

Harvey would be the first thing I’d see every morning when I woke up and made my way down the hallway to the kitchen and living room. She’d be the last thing I saw every night before turning out the hallway light to go to the bedroom. That has a way of becoming routine. How am I supposed to begin and end my days without this lovely creature looking up at me with her noise twitching? What is tomorrow going to be like?

I hope Harvey knows how much we loved her. I hope we meant as much to her as she did to us. The house just feels empty. I don’t know what else to say.