I have been described as an introvert most of my life, which has always pissed me off. According to Wikipedia introversion is "the state of or tendency toward being wholly or predominantly concerned with and interested in one's own mental life... An introvert is likely to enjoy time spent alone and find less reward in time spent with large groups of people.”
After lengthy conversation with my wife I realized that I don’t like being classified as an introvert because it tends to be seen as some sort of fault. If it’s so bad, just where is my disability parking permit, which I assume means I can park in the middle of the mall right in the line up to see Santa, or in the “As Seen On TV” booth during other seasons.
|Just back it up next to the Veg-O-Matics|
It’s not that I’m an introvert, so much as I don’t give a shit about most things. I have no passion about politics, I have my own thoughts and opinions, but not the drive to debate someone else about them. I used to do a lot of comedy around Toronto, and going to a party filled with performers always gave me a headache. I tended to hang with the non-performers and wished desperately to say “Let’s be truthful here. You aren’t going to come to my show, and I won’t be coming to yours. So let’s just stop talking about how great the process of building a show is.” to the other performers.
|Umm... yeah. I'll have to check my calendar...|
I think the place my introversion or nihilism has had the worst effect is when soliciting donations for various charities. As a child when the school would have kids go door to door with catalogs to raise money I would only hit up my immediate family and grandparents. That would get me maybe three orders for the cheapest things in the book. On the day the products arrived at the school for us to deliver to our customers I would be holding an automatic card shuffler and a candy jar with a cow on it, while other kids had garbage bags of shit and playing with their new Polaroid cameras they won for meeting selling quotas. I would win one of these for participation:
|Look a skinned testicle with googly eyes!|
A note to the kids out there:
A Polaroid camera was a magical device that required no cables, Bluetooth technology or a trip to the Walmart to print pictures. This technology was pushed off the market by the huge USB conglomerates in the late 90's.
|Also Edgar Winters used it.|
Recent charities I have tried to get sponsors for were simple things like Movember. A charity that raises funds for prostate cancer research by participants growing a mustache. I guess the idea is to look like an asshole in order to save one. I did this a couple of years ago and did get some criticism that it was a pretty easy challenge. My argument was that someone walking for an entire weekend or other physical challenge indeed have a harder time physically, but mentally mine was harder. Hearing the snickers and same joke, “When are you going to start growing it?” day after day.
|Shouldn't I be dating Minnie Driver or Winona Ryder?|
My wife on the other hand is an amazing extrovert and A type person who isn’t afraid to corner people, turn them upside down and shake money out of them. I’ve watched in horror as she approaches people who weeks ago might have said in passing they might want a ticket to this fundraiser or might donate to that charity, and with the power of only her talking, reach into their pockets and remove money.
She never ceases to amaze me at her ability to raise money and work for charitable or community organizations. This summer she will be talking part in the Friends For Life Bike Rally riding her bike from Toronto to Montreal, a trip of 600 kilometer (or 160,000 quarts for American readers). I’ve watched her awaken early a few times a week to train for this event. This is normally a woman who actually sleeps through the entire “Curious George” soundtrack that resides in our alarm clock. Songs so annoying it makes me want to gnash at the clock with my teeth if it plays more than the sound of the CD loading.
She’s amazing and is working very hard. If you want to donate money to someone who is busting their ass to do an amazing feat, donate to her by clicking this picture:
That however is nothing compared to what I am doing. I will be participating in the Ride for Heart on Sunday, June 2, 2013 in support of the Heart and Stroke Foundation. They have various lengths of rides on this day. I laugh in the face of 50 kilometers, guffaw at 75 kilometers. 25 kilometers, I take that very seriously. Hey, don’t forget to add on the 11 kilometers to get to the start of the ride.
The ride goes along the Gardener and DVP. Which of course, due to the Gardner's dilapidated state means I am taking my life in my own hands. I will also be taking my a five-year-old's life in my hands as she will be attached to my bike during this ride.
|I'll be wearing a hard hat over my bike helmet.|
My daughter will be on the trail-a-bike, that attaches to the back of my own old rusty bike, like a parasite on an already dying host. I call this contraption “The Wiggler” as every time my daughter decides to dance in her seat it makes me yell, “What the hell are you doing back there?” Which then makes her yell, “Look at me with no hands!” Which then makes me swing my head around to yell at her, “Knock it off!” Which makes the bike turn suddenly, which throws us off balance and off a cliff that magically appears on Dundas Street in downtown Toronto.
|Godammit! Stop that!|
Though there will be no car traffic on these roads during the ride, I promise to swear and merge erratically as though there is. Perhaps you would like to sponsor me for every swear word I utter during the route, or better yet every swear word repeated by my daughter. Let’s say $2.00 a swear.
But really why sponsor me? Because I have incentives. Depending on the amount you sponsor I will write your name on a part of my body the day of the ride. Refer to the picture below for rates:
Forehead - $100.00
Groin - $2,000.00
I will take a picture of your name written on my body the day of the ride and email it to you shortly thereafter as proof. A few rules: I will only write your real name (example: Jen Hendriks) not crazy made up names (example: Douchy Ballface). I will not accept group or corporate donations to reach any sponsorship levels including the coveted groin area. Though there is more than enough room to write your all members of your group, I feel that would be cheating.
So please help me reach my goal by going to my donation page and shelling out some cash you cheap bastards.