Good Days – Part 2

See, I’m the one who needs help but I can only get the help I need by helping others.   It’s not because I’m a wonderful guy.   It’s because I’m a selfish ass wipe with a Santa Claus complex who’s only happy when distracted from his own self.  It’s a weird win-win.   Like if your girlfriend suddenly becomes an addict (sad, scary) BUT she’s addicted to making love to you.  Just you.  Her focus on your pleasure releases endorphins of joy or peace….who cares?   She feels better for making you feel better.   That’s why I do so much charity work and now that we have more time than ever on our hands we should all be doing as much as we can in case there really is a heaven.

I know what you’re thinking, “But Tom, charity work doesn’t pay.”  Wrong.  Charity work makes you forget about your miserable life, right?  Just like Crack.   But Crack costs money and the more you do it, the more you need.  The more you need, the more you spend.   Then one day you realize that old fashioned smoking rock cocaine isn’t doing the trick anymore.   So, of course, you go to needles and high quality syringes are an added expense.  But you adjust. Then suddenly you realize your veins have collapsed and the next thing you know you’re sticking things up your butt. When “your bottom” is actually you bottom it’s maybe time to look for help plus where do you go when “taking it up the ass” isn’t crazy enough?

Lending a hand (volunteerism to you college folks) to someone in worse shape than you (they’re out there, some of us have to look harder than others at first) is free and the high, take it from an expert, is better, lasts longer and there’s no rectal bleeding.

So here’s some of TA’s Tips For Being Selfless and Humble, Like Me:

Volunteer. You can volunteer at almost any type of charity.   Most have Gala’s or Run-Walk’s and whether it’s the fancy schmancy Carousel of Hope Ball (Juvenile Diabetes), the “dancing insisted upon” Race 2 Erase MS event, the more subtle but still black tie (I never wear a tux…a thrift shop black suit works just as well) Camp Del Corazon Gala, camp for severe heart kids, there’s dancing, drinking and doctors…always a funny combination or, if you need your vitamin D, any AIDS, Cancer, Non Violence Run-Walk.

The one constant in all these events is they’re all incredibly dependant on volunteers AND as I sneak out the back door (sad fact, I recently realized that most of the time I’ve got nowhere to sneak too so now I try to linger and genuinely take it all in) after emceeing, introducing someone truly heroic or commanding the Live Auction (tip: before you start, locate the rich guys.   Get them drinking heavily, especially the ones that look like me with dates who look like my fiancé – young, beautiful, the kind of women insecure, inebriated balding fat guys NEED to impress with public displays of appreciation i.e. tax deductible jewelry, fancy, one of a kind sports cars, first class trips to 5 star exotic locations, “anything for the kids” i.e. private displays of affection – Big Daddy wants a gratitude blow job).

I always take a look back and see the volunteers, still working hard, handing out the goodie bags to the high rollers, people who’ve just spent 10’s of thousands of dollars, waiting in a long line to collect their free swag, usually a heavy bag filled with junk, (3 kinds of conditioner, Extra Small T-shirts, a reality “star’s” perfume, Olsen Twins eyeliner, a VHS copy of a movie no one has ever heard of (usually mine) a cook book, written by a fat balding rich guy’s 3rd wife’s 2nd cook, another book written by The Dietian, Trainer or Plastic Surgeon of “The Stars” and an 800 page book written by the brilliant Doctor who will eventually cure this disease but sadly, literally no one will ever read this book.  All this bounty is carted home and placed in the Re-gift Closet by housekeepers who then gratefully re-receive these as they head for home at 5PM on Christmas Day (that’s a Candy Spelling half day) and they, in a tradition as old as Tory Spelling’s first botched boob job, immediately re-re-gift by tossing the bag into the unsuspecting garners pickups so they don’t have any extra crap to haul the 10 K to the bus stop.

I’m always’ a little envious of the volunteers because I hear them talking about the “wrap party” they are having at some dive bar after “the rich weirdos have gone.”   They genuinely seem to know that they’ve worked hard and made a difference and no matter what is going on in their lives, these troupers have a sense of community.  In spite of our reality, they know that things could be worse but they just made them a little better.

Other things I like: The USO.   Whether raising money here or entertaining in a war zone, those men and women are ALWAYS so darn grateful…and not in a sarcastic way, “oh man, I’m so grateful that you flew First Class over here to tell some jokes for a week so I can enjoy the last two years of being shot at while my wife raises our kids alone.”   It is the definition of irony.

Like the time I was at the Ronald McDonald House in Seattle and this sweet little boy with cancer was worried about my career.

“Is it true you’re not on the Best Damn Sports Show anymore?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Oh sure, I mean, I loved working there but it got too expensive for them.”

The 11 year old comforted me with his family then told me I was his Autistic brother’s favorite TV person.  ”He’s only 8 and dad put a lock on the cable box but he broke the code every night at 8 when your show was on.   I think you remind him of himself, the way you shake and talk.”  Of course I considered this high praise.  See, WAY better than jogging or meditating.   And I immediately asked Fox to make a compilation tape of my craziest moments to send to the 11-year old’s little brother.   Not to brag but I really felt important that day and it’s not that I’m not aware of a sick little kid or a severely wounded soldier and I know how tough life is for a 7 year old who’s had 2 heart transplants…it’s just that when I’m in their presence, I cannot look sad.  That’s my job.   Business as usual.   They don’t want my tears, my sympathy.  They want me to be the idiot from TV and the movies or they want to tell me a joke or ask who’s gonna win the Super Bowl.

So I save the sadness for later and I try not to obsess on it because I’ve probably got another show or charity thing tonight and my job is to provide an opportunity to escape.  That’s how I help.   I volunteer, still sometimes I wish it was the young old days and I was a real volunteer-volunteer.  They sure laugh a lot.

But maybe the best charity for my self esteem is the Special Olympics.  Anyone can help us.   And selfishly, I’m sure this is one of the big reasons I do so many of these events…these kids really like me.   They like everybody but I don’t know any place in the world where everybody likes ME.  And they’re fun.   Again, my favorite memories are of the kids coaching me in their events.  Trying to make me a better bowler, sprinter, golfer, power lifter, etc.

And then there’s Eunice Shriver.  My personal hero.   She started the Special Olympics about 50 years ago and I’m sure it wasn’t easy but she wasn’t easy.  She knew what she wanted for her kids and she got it.   So inspiring.   My favorite memory was The United States Games in 2006. It was held in my home state, Iowa, so I was pretty proud.   I was the host and I basically followed around Eunice, a woman I fondly referred to as “a 90 pound woman with a 100 pound purse.”  I do have a Santa Claus Complex.   If you’ve ever been dressed as Santa Claus, you understand.  Kids look at you like you are Will Smith times ten.  Anyway, I love putting the S.O. Metal on the athletes.  Makes me feel cool.  Eunice saw me pinning one on and yelled “stop!   They can do that themselves” and I said, “it’s kinda hard” and she said “can YOU do it?  Can Arnold do it?  Well, then they can do it.”  She was always about self reliance and she was always right.   So since she’s gone she’s going to need a whole bunch of us to carry on her 100 pound purse.  Join me if you can.   Feels great.