Flame Retardant

I volunteered at my home group to do some research on how we might close a somewhat troubling budget gap.  I sort of realized what I was in for when I volunteered.  I knew that I had better find my flame-thrower resistant fire suit because nothing gets drunks all agitated and perturbed like money.  Normally rational people become quite irrational very quickly, and the irrational among us become completely unhinged.  I actually took the time to paint a big red bulls-eye on my forehead so that all of the people that I pissed off would know exactly where to aim.


As you can imagine I have a pretty strong opinion about money and The Program myself.  I believe that we need to carefully balance the necessity of paying rent and providing coffee and heating the room in the winter - Tradition Seven - while being careful not to ever make anyone uncomfortable about attending a meeting, no matter how dire their circumstances might be - Tradition Three.  This isn't a country club.  Nobody has to pay anything to attend.  In fact, the richest dude in the west doesn't have to give a stinking quarter if he doesn't want to.  We definitely don't want to make anyone who can't afford to kick in a buck feel unwelcome.  


That being said we are tasked with paying our own bills.  We can't accept a free meeting space from a church or civic institution because it's critically important that we never let anyone dictate what we're trying to do. I need to have a chair that's paid for in which to place my spiritual butt.  I don't want to wonder if the free meeting space is being provided in the hopes that I become a Methodist or vote Republican or anything even more outlandish.


For groups struggling with money the solution is to spend less or collect more.  Our group manages expenses well which indicated, to me, that we needed to find a way to gently prod those members who could afford to increase their contribution from one to two dollars to do so.  Our central office offered several great suggestions on how to do this without injuring the dignity of those who can't afford to contribute.  Because I have a tendency to go off half-cocked I made sure I collected information from different sources before presenting my findings.  No drunk likes to be hectored into anything, especially by a self-righteous prig like me.


You would have thought from the reaction in the room that I suggested that we hire a couple of large men to grab each member as they passed through the door, hold them upside down while shaking vigorously, and then putting all of the money that fell on the floor into the basket.  I had hoped that maybe, possibly, we might have found a way to compromise so that folks that weren't contributing but who could afford to do so might have their conscience jogged.  Some times we forget how important finances are or we aren't aware that we're running a shortfall.  One of my friends rationalized his decision to up his contribution this way: "A buck for me and a buck for the guy who can't afford it."


The group conscience seemed to be something along the lines of "Everything will work out OK by magic."  This didn't prevent my dignity from being seriously dented.  In fact, I felt a little hustled.   There have been many meetings where the basket has traveled between 10 or 15 people and gotten to me with so few contributions that I couldn't break a five.  I don't mind pulling my own weight and kicking in a little extra for the guy who is struggling but c'mon, can't we come up with a kind way to remind everyone that we got to have money to pay bills?  


When I was getting sober every day for a few months I put the amount of cash that I spent on booze, drugs, and cigarettes into a jar by my front door.  I was ASTOUNDED at how quickly I accumulated some serious cash.  It was expensive to drink and drug like I did, and I was doing it at home.  I couldn't have come up with the money to drink like that at bars.


Whatever, Bleeding Deacon.