To Loan or Not to Loan

Tags

friendship, gratitude, loaning, motivation, philanthropy, things

Nice looking trumpet, eh?  The one pictured is not mine, but I have one just like it.  It’s a Conn Connstellation 38B, probably produced around the same time mine was since the trim and features are identical.  The one pictured could be the twin to mine as it was a few years ago.  It is a gorgeous instrument and an excellent horn that plays so well that guys I know who play professionally have offered me a nice sum for it after playing the horn.

My parents sacrificed a great deal to buy the horn for me when I was eleven years old.  My band director shamed them into buying me a decent horn, telling my mother “c’mon cheapskate,  reward the kid for playing his butt off on that piece of crap he is trying to play”.  And they did.  It made a huge difference, one that paid off by allowing me to play very well even now, forty years later.  I made my parents proud by giving them back some nice accomplishments when I was in school and it has helped me pass the torch.

Which is why I couldn’t give up the opportunity to pay it forward a few years ago.  I saw the chance to help a coworker, a woman with several boys who I knew was struggling to support her family.  When she told me her ten year old son may not get the chance to learn the trumpet because she simply could not find the money even to rent a horn, I didn’t hesitate.  I offered to let her son use my horn.

Yes, I should have hesitated a bit more and thought about it more.  The instrument is a valuable item.  The horn is now considered professional quality, a coveted jazz instrument in particular, with a soft easy tone especially for a trumpet.  The offer for my forty year old horn was first $500 and then went up over $800.  A ten year old boy is likely not going to have the maturity to care for an instrument, that is the reason why there are beginner instruments.  Depending on how long he uses the horn, it is likely not going to as valuable or even hold any value at all.

Not to loan reason — Value.

The kid has excelled as a musician.  He has talent.  Reports back are that playing such a quality horn has been a bit of a factor, if only because the boy is going to get a lot more sound out of a better horn than he would from a beginning level instrument.  I know the reports have been for my benefit, but it’s real obvious that playing a good horn has provided extra confidence for the boy.  That was all part of the motivation to pay it forward.  I know what confidence that horn gave to me as soon as I began to play it at his age.

Reason to  loan — Encouragement

Sometimes I wonder if people, including myself, do things for other people because of how it makes the person giving, not receiving, feel.  You get the satisfaction of doing something that is good.  I want to feel that I am good.  That is likely why I am using the term “pay it forward” when I talk about loaning the trumpet.  I knew it would make me feel good about myself, likely the top reason why I didn’t hesitate to make the offer.  Honestly, I do not know if the motivation was a good or bad thing, but it did cause me to make a decision that I should have thought about more.  But I am also not afraid to say that doing something good for someone else can be the proper motivation.  We need to feel good about it.  I also think that can not be the only reason.  My experience in this situation has taught me that there was more I should have considered, that being the other person involved.

Reason to and not to loan — Personal Motivation.

My trumpet has not been mine for over two years now.  I asked to borrow the horn back at Christmas so I could play in a Christmas concert.  The bell from the horn is bent from being dropped.  It has been carried around in a bag with the mouthpiece in the bag, damaging the nickel finish and putting a lot of dents in the horn.  When I loaned the horn, my family was not happy when they found out because they were looking at how good of a horn it is/was, plus they would not be able to learn to  play trumpet on my horn.  They did not like what I did and they knew, as I did too, that I should have said that the boy could use the horn until they could afford a rental or to buy a horn.  I didn’t.  That was my mistake.  The woman leased a new Chevy Traverse, a vehicle a whole lot nicer than I can afford to drive.  The vehicle showed up a few months after I loaned the horn to her.  I had no reason to be upset about that because I did not say that she needed to give it back to me after a few months.  I said keep it as long as you need it.  I wanted it to be that way.  If I had thought about the other person, I would have made sure the rules were set down.  I really did not help her the way I could have had I thought about it more. If I was meeting the real need, I would have done more than just give her something.  I would have helped her provide something for her son that could become his own.

Reason not to loan — Meeting the real need.

The trumpet is just a thing.  I had to tell myself that in order to let it go, to not be concerned about the condition it would be in when I got it back.  The woman, someone who needed a friend, found someone she could trust.  That is good.  It was part of the reason I didn’t set down any conditions besides “just use it”.  It felt like the THING needed to be offered in an unconditional way in order for the gift to be effective.  The real value was the friendship, not the thing.

Reason to loan — Things are just that.  Things.  Whether it’s a stick of gum, a trumpet, a house or a car.  They are things.

My 13 year old son is showing real musical talent.  I say that about pretty much everything he does.  He shows real talent.  His interest is keen enough that he is playing in our high school’s jazz band, saxophone and guitar, as well as in his middle school band.  I still get asked to play in local gigs with bands I used to play for.  I can get Nate involved also if I do it with him. it would be good for us both.

So this morning I emailed my friend and coworker to ask for the trumpet back, gave her the reason why, and asked her to make sure her son has an instrument to play before she give my horn back to me, even if that means that is the end of the school year.  The response I got back was one you receive from a grateful friend.

I did the right thing.

*slaps forehead*

Tags

batteries, dildo, friendship, TMI

“Hey, I have this funny TMI story for you.  Don’t say you can’t handle TMI because I know you can.”

The impromptu story continued as she tugged me by my coat sleeve past the time clock into the parking lot.  Shannon is one of those chatterbox types, someone who seems to accept everyone who has wandered into her scope of existence.  I like her energy, tell her I  know when she is approaching by the quick little steps she takes.  And it was with that energy that she led me along across the parking lot, enthusiastically telling me about the little stage her husband is building in the basement for their daughter. He was up late, the drill vibrating up through the wall as she tried to sleep in the upstairs bedroom.  The sound changed but she kept hearing a buzzing.  It sounded too familiar, she said.

For some reason, maybe because she has spent enough time around me to experience my sideways sense of humor (you’ll have to trust me on that claim), Shannon has confided little tidbits about herself to me before.  I listen to her and I laugh.  Really I don’t think it takes much encouragement for her to share anything with anyone she is even relatively comfortable with.

And I wonder if she slaps her forehead when she walks away.  You know what I mean.  One of those SMACK why did I just say that forehead slaps.

It could have buzzed all night. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Well, guess what.  The buzzing wasn’t his drill that I kept hearing.  It was my dildo in my nightstand.”

Umm, yeah, that probably crossed the TMI line.  Funny thing is that it just, well, seemed natural coming from Shannon.

Of course,  maybe she feels comfortable telling me something that, ummm, personal because I a bit of the TMI type myself.  Don’t expect me to be telling dildo stories any time soon, though.  Until now.

“You know, I don’t know what this says about me, but my first thought was that you were going to tell me it was your dildo.”

“Yeah, those Duracell batteries really last a long time.”

“Good night,  Shannon.”

Guess with some people there just isn’t such a thing as TMI.

My forehead hurts.

 

There

Tags

cats, dogs, friendship, marriage

*sigh*

My animals are keeping me company this afternoon.  Chester the cat curled up in my lap when I got home, then moved to his bed on the ottoman.  Nick the sheltie showed me his canine love by sitting next to me on the couch, his white front paws across my lap and his head across my chest.  Love me, Nick said with his brown/blue eyes.  Nick basked for a while as I stroked his chin and behind his ears.  He is in his usual place on the floor in front of the ottoman  as I write.

Coming home was difficult today.  The house was too quiet.  I texted Mir.

It is final.  I’m home but the quiet is going to drive me crazy.

Mir was at her lunch lady job at the elementary school.  The kids are in school.   Our house never felt so empty.

This morning I went to court with my friend John as he and his wife, Sherri, finalized their divorce.   A few months ago, when he told me that he had discovered emails and other things on her iPad that showed she was cheating on him, I offered up my ear.  Since then, we have spent several evenings together agonizing over the myriad of challenges that revelation was presenting to him.  John trusts in God.  They have three boys at home.  He wanted to do the right thing, but Sherri was showing no remorse for what she had done.  She did not stop seeing other men even though John did not ask her to leave.  When it became clear that divorce was going to be the option to choose, I made another offer — if you need someone to go with you on the day you have to go to court, I will go with you.  I told him that I have done the same for someone else (and I have).  It seemed to make sense to offer my support to him on a day that would likely be a difficult one for him.

I knew the papers were filed a few weeks ago.  John emailed me last week, told me the court date was set for this morning.  Would I still be willing to go with him?  Of course.

Sunday night I went to a concert with John and his boys.  He was solemn, but in decent spirits.  When he asked me to go with him out to the lobby, without the boys, he told me she had been seeing more men in the past weeks, had been leaving in the middle of the night and returning in the morning.  John was not angry.  Her unfaithfulness was so clear that he knew that divorce was the right decision.  Even in that unfaithfulness, Sherri was still asking him to take her back.  The last time had been early as that morning. Of course, she had not mentioned she had a date on Sunday evening to watch the Bears game.

I think I was more angry than John that night, even this morning.  He was relieved.  This morning was closure for him.  We talked and prayed together.  I watched him, prayed a lot more, especially when his lawyer showed and took him before the judge. Sherri didn’t show for the court appearance.  She had gotten home at 4 in the morning, didn’t want to get out of bed.  It didn’t matter.  She was not required to be there.

Of course, the judge would not sign the papers.  There was one mistake that had to be corrected.  The judge sent John back home to get Sherri to initial the change.  I felt strange going in the house with him, sat on the couch as he went upstairs to where she was sleeping.  I prayed as their dog barked, that it would keep barking so that I would not hear.  It kept barking.  Sherri provided the signature quickly.  We left and returned to the court.

The tears came as I watched as the judge made the pronouncement. I was surprised at the emotion I was feeling, strong enough that I had to fight back sobs.  I am not sure if John saw.  He is a stoic, so I did not want him to see my tears.  Outside in the hall, the lawyer shook his hand.  It was done.

Our conversations switched to the future — what it would be like with the boys,  the things they had told him about their mother, thoughts on dating.  I had to hide my smile. Dating?

The day today is sunny. Cold.  But sunny.  Beautiful and crisp.  We live amidst forest preserves.

“I’m wearing a suit.  It’s a nice day.  Would you be willing to take a few pictures of me to use in my online DATING PROFILE?

Oh my.  We laughed.. and got some really good pictures for him to use.

Mir responded to my texts, then called me a few minutes later.  And the emotion of the morning took over. My voice began to crack, I couldn’t speak for a few seconds while I struggled to gain my composure.  I could not believe how strong I felt.  I felt the heaviness of the day.  Wow.  It felt strange to be hit so hard by something that had not happened to me.

John and I got to know each other six years ago when I coached his youngest son in baseball.  Our wives got to talking, found out that I ride bicycles and John had raced the Kona Ironman.  He wanted to get back into cycling after a few years of lay off.  I invited John to ride with my buddies.  We found out we share a love for God.  John is now one of the most respected bicycle racers in the area.  We have studied the Bible together, ride together, have gone on countless cycling weekends with our friends.  I can’t help but think that we are in each other’s lives for a reason.

It has felt good to be needed by a friend.  Today was good for John because I was there.  That is all I need.