Backsliding Forward (Ep. 666)

Backsliding - to lapse morally or in the practice of religion

The metal on metal sound of my brakes finally became too much for me, so it was in the shop. I dropped it off yesterday, running the 4 miles home. It was fixed with new brake pads and rotors today, so I ran 4 miles with a gnarly uphill to retrieve it.

And of course the first thing I did with my refined automobile was to pick up a hitchhiker. It's a habit of mine to try to live by the Golden Rule. There have been many times, I've been stuck walking home in the rain or on a very long journey, hoping for a [hot blond female, preferably between the age of 20-23] stranger to pick me up on the side of the road.

People argue against this genuine kindness because of the risks of some random person walking on the side of the road, so they'd rather just donate a buck to charity or harass their friends into donating for some selfish 5k or trip abroad. Even donating time to some organizations is useless, because they have so many volunteers they don't really need your help.

I've always thought it was much more important to give back (and immediately) to the community. Back in Jersey, there was a man in my town who had malformed legs and could barely walk, yet he'd struggle to complete his chores and get back to his house. It was dumbfounding that few to none others would give him a ride. He had mental and physical problems but he was clearly not a threat.

Besides the good deed itself, there is a benefit of meeting new people, another character to enrich our experiences. On my way back to Memphis one year, I drove an 19 year old runwaway/orphan entirely across the state. After over 35 waking hours, I regretted the 4 hours of company, but it was interesting. The kid survived by fishing in local creeks and was trying to visit his brother being deployed from Colorado. He also smelled bad. I would never want his lifestyle, nor do I think he wanted it either.

Today's character was very thankful for his trip south down Clairmont Rd into Decatur. It was barely out of my way, yet once he strated rambling it felt like forever. He started explaining that he was the poor sibling in the family (no kidding). Next he explained he was food poisoned by his apartment complex because the oven never heated up enough (couldn't you simply tell your food wasn't cooked enough?). He could have sued them but he didn't, so he claimed. And then he suffered from chronic insomnia, but if you ate turkey or bananas on an empty stomach you'd fall asleep. Next he explained these problems were understandable because he was backsliding.

I'd never heard the term before, but the next 5 minutes, I was proselytized. I never believed in a vengeful god, let alone in the definiteness of a god, but I just listened. He encouraged me to find Jesus again and again, despite me never saying anything to the contrary. It reminded me of my wonderful PATH trips sleepily in the morning to work, when some dude would wait until the longest time between stops and start reading from the Bible at the top of his lungs. Everyone was trapped and would try to ignore the annoyance as best as possible, but every now and then somebody that must have listened to a crying baby the entire previous night, would scream at him to shut the hell up.

Getting out the door, he reminded that god was responsible for all his problems and that I should find Jesus. He thanked me and I drove away. I doubt I'll find myself in a religious building until Simma's wedding, but the experience reminded me how important it is to stop being so guarded in this terror-alert, elevated-society and lend a helping hand.