It’s time again for Black Friday, the name given to the shopping day after Thanksgiving Day in the US. Police coined the phrase to describe the mayhem surrounding the congestion of pedestrian and auto traffic in downtown shopping areas. Retailers offer big discounts on their goods on Black Friday. I used to consider slipping over the border for the day but no more. The crowds are maybe okay but the violence is something else.
It wasn’t even a Black Friday when a friend got a real deal in a big merchandising store in Myrtle Beach – in the winter no less. He went into the store because of a 50 per cent off sale. Spotting a sport jacket for $250 less 50 per cent, he decided to buy it. At the checkout counter he was asked if he was over 55. Another 20 per cent off. A store credit card which he didn’t have, but filling out the application, gave a further 10 per cent discount. There was a tricky discount if he knew his Social Insurance Number without looking it up. This friend rhymed off a 9-digit number which the clerk verified in his terminal that it was correct. The take-away price was only $19 for a $250 jacket. As he turned to leave, the clerk said, “we like to treat our Canadian visitors well.”
I had a good deal last January in the Vancouver airport terminal. A small shop was selling casual shirts for 50 per cent off the $110 price. But if three were bought, then an additional 30% would be discounted. I was interested and asked what if I bought four shirts? That would be an additional 10 per cent off on all of them. I took the four with a $110 shirt coming at less than $35.
There was one time in my previous life when the “Three Tenors’, Plácido Domingo, José Carreras and Italian Luciano Pavarotti, were to perform at Exhibition Place in Toronto. Tickets were selling at $400 each, too rich for my EX and I. A radio station announced that the first five callers could get tickets for $40 apiece. I was one of the callers. Later during the concert I heard a man lamenting the cost. I asked him how much and he said $400 a ticket. I said, “Too bad I got mine for $40.” This made him even more exasperated. I chuckled to myself!
I realized years ago that when I behave generously, I feel rich. And because I like to feel rich, I choose to be generous. But behaving generously doesn’t necessarily mean donating money or giving away the shirt off your back.
You can share knowledge freely, instead of hoarding it. You can send a hand-written note, instead of a text message. You can make eye contact, instead of looking the other way. You can make a life-changing introduction for a friend, instead of letting them connect the dots on their own.
You can do big things, small things or simple things. All kinds of things. You will never run out of ideas, you will only create more. What would happen if you said “thank you” 50 different ways, to 50 different people, every day, for the next 50 days? The possibilities are beyond imagining, but one thing’s for certain: You’re about to become everybody’s favourite person.
One Sunday in the eighties when I was returning to Toronto from Westmeath, I arranged to drive an acquaintance from Barry’s Bay just for the company. It turned out her company was not so good, turning a smooth highway as if a bumpy secondary road. Despite my nagging stress, she somehow talked me into going a ways past Scarborough north where I lived to a west-end location in a seedy section of town. Before departing she asked me for some money. I took two lonely bills out of my wallet, a $20 and five dollars, reminding her that, “I am very low on gas but take your pick?” She snatched the $20 as a wino would with glossy eyes, then out of the car like flash showing no gratefulness at all.
Generous giving implies that you have taken care of your own needs and can put forth energy toward others. Over-giving, on the other hand, tends to come not from generosity, but from hidden needs. Generous giving feels light and joyful while over-giving feels burdensome. Take your pick!
