It’s an old cowboy proverb; probably born of long observation of an unfamiliar culture faced with the age-old challenge of surviving in a sometimes unforgiving world.  As they say:

Timing has a awful lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.

There are many times when timing is the razor-fine difference between seeming to possess the power to change the landscape and looking like a crazy-ass fool, shucking and jiving out in the mid-day heat under clear blue sky.

There are times when the difference seems less fine.

In my little village there are a number of organizations with ongoing activities for which the members find themselves in need of raising funds.  Most are youth groups of various sorts.  Growing up going to catholic school, I have first-hand experience with hawking raffle tickets, and saving soup can labels, and selling magazine subscriptions. 

My wonderful neighbor across the street where I grew up had a firm rule; if a child is selling something, you buy it.  These days, given the fact that a 7 year-old may very well be running crack cocaine, I retain the right to suspend that rule under certain circumstances, but, for the most part, I have adopted that as my rule, too.

I buy Girl Scout cookies, Boy Scout popcorn, class trip wrapping paper and science club cookie dough.  I’ve had my car washed… by the football team… in the rain.  It’s for a good cause, after all.  Spending a few bucks to support these activities is usually a foregone conclusion for me.

I’d worry about my neighbors reading all of that here and learning precisely what an easy mark I am, but it’s too late already.  The cat is already out of the bag.

Other times it is even easier than opening my wallet to support school and extra curricular activities.  Occasionally, I get requests just to save my recyclables for collection by one or another group. 

On one such occasion, there was a knock on my door on a Friday afternoon, asking for a contribution of bottles or cans.  I was unable to help.  The village’s regular recycling pick-up had come by that morning.

Ack.

Last Friday I came home to find a flyer stuck in my storm door once again asking if I could save my recyclables for pick up.  At first I was a little disappointed that the notice came on Friday.  I only noticed the flyer as I was walking back up my front steps carrying my now empty blue box.

Ack…again.

Reading more carefully, though, I saw that I had a few day’s notice to save what I could for them.  The scheduled pick-up was today.  Today, being the Monday after Super Bowl Sunday, I couldn’t help thinking that a number a folks might have a few empties lying around the house.

I couldn’t help thinking that timing does, indeed, have a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.

Any guesses which group was collecting cans and bottles today?