Cigarette Sucking Man

...and other assorted characters I've seen in the last week who would seem to personify the frightening specter-children from Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol': Want and Ignorance.

Panhandlers really bother me. What do you say? What do you do when you walk past them on the street? Is there some kind of proper etiquette other than completely ignoring them? In Toronto, they're so numerous I took to carrying wrapped restaurant or cafe leftovers with me and handing them to the first likely looking person who begged us for change or whatever. Of course, you can't give something to every one.

Last Saturday, the boy playing drums on empty 5-gallon plastic buckets and cans was probably good enough to be in a school band. He was making one hell of a racket. It echoed off the buildings in Eastern Market. He had no coat, was wearing no socks, and it was a really cold blustery day. I think there was a container for contributions next to him, but we walked past without really looking at him.

The guy laying on the sidewalk a short distance away from this street concert was probably really pathetic looking. He certainly sounded pathetic. 'Got any spare change for the homeless?' sounded hoarse and pathetic enough. But again, I wasn't looking at him at all to get any details. I didn't have the courage to turn and directly look at him. Both times we passed him.

In Slow's, the BBQ restaurant where we had lunch, a thin man walked in the door, dug out a pocketful of coins to pay for a takeout order, and while the barkeeper was counting this pile of small change and getting his order, filched a cigarette butt out of an ashtray on the bar and stuck it in his mouth. The ash end, not the filter end. He apparently enjoyed it for a minute, took it out, tucked his treasure in his pocket, got his bag of food and walked outside.

I guess the last time I remember counting spare change to buy meals was in college. Since I don't smoke, I couldn't possibly tell you if there's a lot of pleasure to be sucked out of other people's discarded nicotine fixes. But how low does your life have to be if this is how things are for a grown man?

I refuse to pick up hitchhikers. *That* was the only case where I didn't hesitate or feel guilt for not helping. The shabby guy sticking his thumb out along Grand River Avenue yesterday got only the breeze from my passing truck. A lone woman picking up male strangers these days is just plain asking for trouble.

But the others...it was only much later that it occurred to me that it wouldn't have killed us to throw some money in Drummer Boy's bucket. I didn't have a spare pair of socks on me, but that's what I would have wanted to give him if I had had any. And there are restaurants all around Eastern Market, we could have bought homeless dude a hot meal. Or thrown a few dollars on the bar at Slow's.

It seems like *everyone* has their hands out this time of year. The Salvation Army bell-ringers with their kettles in front of every large store. Endless solicitations to contribute to this cause or that, capitalizing on the holiday season. Adoptions of this or that family or group in need. Please give, give, give. Or else you aren't in the spirit of the season.

All good and well...but can't we be free to exercise choice over where we dispose our charity? Is it wrong to want to do something for one person rather than another? Is it enough to just feel a stab of pity/guilt and then move on? And is it OK to tell yourself later the raggedy panhandler laying on the street is possibly a shyster who probably makes more from handouts in a day than you do in a day's honest employment?

I think I get more conflicted on this every year instead of less. If nothing else, I suppose these things serve as a gentle reminder of the gobs of blessings most of us enjoy every day.