The War on Charity II

Once more, I find myself fighting the good fight against those who would help people less fortunate than myself.

After the Haiti earthquake, I had the urge--and to be perfectly honest, it was a really uncharacteristic urge--to donate a decent amount of money to the relief effort. And of course, when I say "decent," I don't want to make it sound as though I was going to gut my checking account or anything. As Homer Simpson once said, "I'm not running for Jesus." But not like just $5 or $10, either.

I actually put a fair amount of thought into which charity I was going to give to. I didn't want to donate through one of the corporations that were collecting money, and I didn't want to call into that celebrity telethon thing, because I knew that if I got a bad celebrity it would put me in a bad mood for days. I mean, you see George Clooney and Bruce Springsteen on TV and you think, "Awesome!" But then you call and you hear, "Hi, this is Robert Pattinson," or "Hey, Jay Leno here!" or whatever, and it has to be a huge let-down.

Anyway, I ended up going with UNICEF. It was a known entity, and I liked the idea of my donation going to help kids. So I figured that was that, and as with most cash transactions, we would now go our separate ways, both of us better for the experience.

It turns out this was completely naive of me, as UNICEF quickly decided that ours should be an ongoing relationship.

First came the emails. Then the letters. Some simply asking me for more money. Others pointing out specifically how additional donations would help kids around the world. Others just blatantly trying to guilt me into giving.

The emails were easy enough to stop, but unfortunately, U.S. mail has no unsubscribe link you can click on. So every couple of weeks, I get a new plea for money from UNICEF. And every time, they go in the trash. It's not that I'm totally heartless. Just...mostly so, I guess. Hey, I have needs. You know...shelter, beer, Xbox. Needs.

Late last year, I found an oversize envelope crammed into my mailbox. When I opened it, this is what was was inside.

For a brief moment, I was horrified. Did I buy a fucking calculator through UNICEF?!? That's not something I would do sober. It's not even something I would do drunk. After a few seconds, I realized with relief that they'd sent it to me for free.

It wasn't an especially nice calculator. In fact, it was cheap. Really cheap. Which isn't a surprise, seeing as how there's a reason they could afford to send thousands of these things out. Even if I didn't already have a calculator--not to mention, one on my computer and another one on my phone--I wouldn't use it. It felt like I might break it just by looking at it.

Here's how it tied into UNICEF's fundraising drive, from the letter that accompanied it:

The enclosed calculator is our gift for you - I hope that every time you turn it on and the number '0' appears on the screen, you will be reminded of how your support is bringing us closer to our shared goal of zero preventable deaths.

That's nice. The calculator's now in a landfill. Throwing it away, I didn't feel nearly as bad about it as I thought I would.

Look, I get it. UNICEF has to keep sending me letters because they believe that if I donated once, there's a good chance I'll donate again. And since they've been doing this for a long time, I guess they know what they're doing and enough good souls who do donate money will cover the expense of sending letters to douchebags like me who just throw them away.

But come on. If you're a charity, don't waste your money with stupid gimmicks like free calculators. If you absolutely have to give something free away, give a pen. Or a T-shirt. Everyone likes a free T-shirt.