Jul 20, 2007

Give it up for charity

By Malcolm Fleschner / Humor Columnist

Recently, while locked out of my hotel room, I read in USA Today that last year Americans donated a record $295 billion to charity. To put this staggering sum in perspective, Americans now give almost as much money to charity to assist those less fortunate as we spend building gated communities to protect ourselves from many of the same people.

If anything, this number probably understates our national generosity, as it does not reflect many "off the books" charitable donations, like spare change given to homeless people, food and clothing donated to area shelters or that $2,000 "loan" my brother-in-law Stan promises he's going to pay back just as soon as he "gets his head together."

Poor, rich widows

Also unrecorded are the contributions Americans make to unscrupulous individuals who prey on our national inclination toward generosity. Here specifically I'm talking about the notorious Internet scammers who send unsolicited e-mails alleging to be, for example, the wife of a deceased Nigerian dictator, in need of a good Samaritan's assistance in spiriting millions of honestly acquired dollars out of the country.

Confronted with the perfectly innocent widow's tale of woe, how can a caring person possibly say no? Here in the United States, when someone in need reaches out to you, you don't ask questions, you just say yes. And if that person happens to be offering you a couple million dollars in exchange for your assistance, well, hey, sometimes virtue is its own reward, and sometimes there's a little extra in it for you.

Of course, things never actually work out that way. Having hooked a potential victim, the "widow" typically requests some basic information, like your birth date, bank account number and mother's maiden name, explaining that she just wants to conduct a quick background check to confirm that you're an upstanding citizen - after all, the former first lady of Nigeria can't be sharing millions in oil profits with just anyone.

Either that or your new Nigerian business partner will first demand $5,000 up-front, explaining that the money is needed to cover overhead costs like "transfer" fees, office supplies, buying bags with dollar signs printed on the side, paying spammers for other saps' e-mail addresses, etc.

These scams are so successful because they appeal to a perfect combination of one percent compassion and 99 percent greed - not to mention 100 percent stupidity. And while I admit to being irritated at receiving these e-mails, they don't bother me much because I'm not gullible enough to fall for such an obvious deception. Not a fourth time, anyway.

No, lately the appeals to my charitable nature that most bother me tend to come from legitimate commercial enterprises. Take, for example, my wife's recent experience while shopping at a store that I will not mention by name, except to say that they sell toys and share my 5-year-old daughter's habit of writing certain letters backwards. After my wife swiped her credit card through the machine, a message popped up on the screen inquiring whether she wanted to add $2 to her bill to help buy toys for underprivileged children.

Giving to oneself

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a big believer in charity. Especially my wife's charity, which as friends and family members all agree, is the only plausible explanation for why she's stayed with me so long. Still, pardon me for wondering if it's not a bit, um, self-serving for the folks at Toys May Or May Not B Us to suggest that customers donate money to a cause that - coincidence alert! - happens to also contribute to the store's bottom line.

I recently confirmed this phenomenon's status as a genuine trend when, prior to going on vacation, I called to halt my home newspaper delivery for a week. The automated voice on the line asked whether to credit my account for the balance, or if instead I'd be willing to donate the week's worth of papers to a program providing free newspapers to - you guessed it - underprivileged children.

"Sure, you could just keep the money," was the machine's clear implication, "but just know that your selfishness will mean depriving some poor inner city child of the opportunity to learn about important news, like the current congressional budget impasse, to say nothing of his or her horoscope."

Now rather than accuse anyone of crassly exploiting consumer guilt to squeeze a couple extra dollars out of customers' pockets, I'm going to assume that this growing corporate dedication to charity is entirely sincere. But just be sure, from now on whenever I buy anything, I'll always thoughtfully ask the sales clerk whether the company would like to drop a few dollars from the purchase price so that I can donate the money to a worthy cause of my choice.

Or, at least a portion of the money. Nigerian widows aren't the only ones with overhead costs, after all.

Feeling charitable? Malcolm Fleschner and his PayPal account want to hear about it at Malcolm@CultureShlock.com.