Hey Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?

It's official. I'm broke. Between the downpayment, paying every closing cost known to man, paying schmucko's SMUD lien and fixin up the place, I am left with a bank account that sends me statements only showing a couple bucks and a sad face. Literally. I go online and look up my account and it says, "Hi Chelsea. Sorry about the troubling number below."

Times are tough in California and all over the country. I know I am totally not alone in my low cashflow pain. But it's tough. For someone who's always worked, and oftentimes two jobs, it's unusual for me to really have to decide what I should and should not spend money on. I realize that this is ok because at least I spent all my money on a home and not, say, a fabulous wardrobe or a car with flashy rims and shiny paint. But still. I don't like the feeling of living paycheck to paycheck.

To add to this stress, I owe my mother approximately one thousand dollars for nearly every year I have been alive (give or take the years I want to forget), and Shupasaurus has a mortgage that he has had to pay on his own home, which (thank goodness) will finally have renters next week. So funds are thin at the Disco Ball Speakeasy. And it's the holidays, of course. It's hard to plan parties and think about presents when I'm wondering if I have enough dough to get through to my next check.

But I'm finally living downtown, where I want to be, in a great job, with a wonderful family, a fabulous boyfriend and more friends than I can make time for. Here's where a little perspective comes in.

One of the most profound reality checks of living downtown is being in the midst of how prolific Sacramento's homeless crisis is. I cannot ride to work, go to the market or walk to my neighborhood pub without seeing someone out on the streets, without a roof over their head, wondering where they are going to get their next meal. Sometimes they are in the process of finding that meal, looking in places you or I would never think of looking. Sometimes they're on the corner or walking past you, asking if you can spare a dime, a dollar, anything to help them buy a hamburger.

I have always been one of those who felt it was my job to help them out, especially since I have always been fortunate to have a good job, food, shelter and a family who loves me. But right now I find myself joining the ranks of those who always say, "Sorry, i have no cash." Or "No thank you."

Now, imagine if that were you. If you found yourself out of work (which so many of my friends and colleagues have). What would you do? Who would you turn to? Odds are, you have a list of people who would take you in, lend you some dough to get through a rough patch or offer you the shirt off their back. But what if you didn't? Where would you go?

This is one of the hugest tragedies in our society: The fact that people don't have anywhere to go when they are down on their luck. That the homeless population is all but tossed away. How about we all walk a mile in those shoes, for a change?

And how about those out on the streets due to mental illness and lack of availability of care? The thought of someone, lost in their own mind with nowhere to go and no place to find help, makes me struggle to keep from breaking down. It is so sad, it's hard to bear.

After all this sadness and talk of the woes of the world, what next? Talking about a problem is about as useful as "tits on a hog" (as my pops would say). So here's my challenge to you, eight faithful blog readers:

This holiday season, this month, this week, do something for those in need. Donate an old coat that you haven't worn since Nixon was in office. Collect canned food at your office and donate it to your local food bank. Adopt a family this Christmas whose children otherwise wouldn't have presents under the tree. Volunteer. It's free. I've picked two days this month to go help out at Loaves and Fishes. Will you? Go read stories to kids at the Receiving Home. Bring them toys. Ladies, grab your old work clothes that you simply can't be seen in because they are "so last season" and take them to a woman's shelter so a woman without those concerns can look stunning at her next job interview.

It doesn't have to cost money. An hour of your time dedicated to a woman, a child, a man, who spends their days and nights alone, is priceless. So I challenge you. Not only will you likely make their day (or year, or lifetime), but you can feel good that you did it and you will likely want to do it again. And I will be proud of you. And our world will be a little bit better place to live because of it.