Here a while back, when I was responsible for my chapter's annual FCF Christmas Banquet, I was seeking donations of frozen turkeys to help offset the cost of the dinner, and help raise funds for the local outpost which was cookin' it. Work was slack that week so I set out in my truck an made the rounds of all the local grocery stores. I had Royal Ranger, FCF, and LFTL brochures with me, and I wore a class "C" uniform. The responses I got ranged from furrowed eyebrows on a head shaking "NO" the moment it's eyes saw me coming down the frozen aisle, to "Our policy is to let the church fend for itself!" Net proceeds: one Jennie "O" frozen turkey. I went home with a new determination to break into the world of corporate fundraising; a determination which usually hits me around springtime each year and fades about two weeks later. About the same time the pear blossoms in my back yard do. Meanwhile, the other night, as I sat at my table enjoying Andouille sausage jambalaya, fried catfish, and the hottest buffalo wings that have ever burned my lips, there was a knock at my door. No one hardly ever knocks on my door. I live out in the country, my wife and I listen to the coyotes hoot and holler in the front yard each night, right outside our bedroom window. Door to door salepeople are the only people, other than the occasional politicker, who grace our front porch unannounced. I rose to see who it was. Unlocked the deadbolt, (which my wife insists on locking, even though I tell her that if someone gets past my bulldog Moses, they will be in no shape to break my door down anyhow) and opened the door. I'll never forget what I saw next. There, on my porch, were the Serious Cows. There were four of them. Two just kind of stood back in the yard. I think they were in training, because they never said anything, just stood and watched like they were waiting to be milked or something. The other two, however, were a different story. They said plenty. Now folks, I don't know how many of you are acquainted with the Serious Cows, but for those of you who are, you know what I mean when I say that the Serious Cows mean business. And when they show up on your front porch, they really mean business. They all wore fedora hats, blues brothers shades, and black neckties. And no matter how amiable I tried to appear, they made no attempt to put me at ease. They never even cracked a smile. Let me tell you, Rangernet, I was not at ease. They proceeded to succinctly remind me of a recent visit I had paid to a high-falutin' grocery store which had recently opened in my community. And of how I had commented to my wife that I would never shop at a place where the Pillsbury Toaster Strudels cost $2.29, unless we were going to the annual sunday school class christmas party and I was trying to impress my friends with a high dollar party tray. I was caught flat-footed. I mean, what could I say? It was true! They advised me to reconsider, in no uncertain terms. Then they summarily explained how I could save money, and even raise funds for my local outpost, while shopping at the most elite grocery store in town. They pointed out how this establishment doubles and triples coupons, how to earn AA frequent flyer miles while shoppoing, and even how to tap into the the corporate fundraising market, by getting people to register up to three nonprofit groups on thier loyalty shopper's card. Each group get's one percent of all purchases made at the store when using the card. As a result, I even learned how to give AA frequent flyer miles to people who donate funds to our group, and about saving boxtops and labels for my favorite charity - Royal Rangers. One thing about those Serious Cows, though. They could use some manners. Anyone got a shovel? Get more from the Web. FREE MSN Explorer download : http://explorer.msn.com |
