It's 9AM.
Remember when Russia invaded Ukraine and a bunch of celebrities went online and raised millions of dollars in aid?
How about when an earthquake killed 33,000 in Turkey and Syria, with more to come in a harsh winter?
Millions of dollars pouring in from aid organizations, but no celebrity in site.
Why?
Where are Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis talking about helping from their living room?
I mean, everyone sends their “Thoughts and prayers” but try to cook a prayer over an open campfire when you’re sleeping under a tarp and your belly gets rumbling quick.
Not that I think it’s a celebrity’s responsibility to do anything other than that which they are paid to do.
Actors. Singers. “Personalities” should stick to their lane, for the most part.
I mean, does George Clooney or Big Bunny know more about international aid efforts and bureaucracy than I do?
I think not.
They have a platform.
Except, if it’s not wielded to do something, what’s the point.
What’s the purpose?
I wonder if someone is given the luck of being famous, being well known and having people “follow” them on social media channels, do they have a responsibility to make the world a better place?
I’m thinking of thirst traps and semi-nudes, which show up in my news feeds often, along with running tips, keto tips and almost everything going on in the urban renewal efforts of my home town.
All things that interest me.
Would I listen to the people I follow?
Do I care what they have to say enough to take their advice?
Does anyone?
I know they have influence.
The above mentioned Asher and Mila raised many millions for Ukraine efforts.
Mila still is working toward relief for her home country and with aid groups to resettle refugees.
And I suspect more will happen for the survivors of the earthquake, because response takes time.
It is not only a half a world away from us, it is in the middle of the country on roads ruined by the shock and aftershocks of the earth shifting plates.
I guess what bothers me most is feeling helpless.
The sheer number of dead, more than most small towns, just gone in an instance, makes me numb.
How do you help the million survivors?
Grieving the loss of their loved ones.
Homeless.
Hungry.
Helpless.
A human condition that is all too familiar and even more so since most people I know want to lend a hand.
We do it with a $20 donation.
Maybe a bag of cast off clothes to replace that which was lost.
And like me, you may think of ten ideas a day to help the newly displaced, and send them to people who can make a difference.
But choose not to.
When I was a more starry eyed youth, I planned to get rich writing and making movies, and turn those riches into a fleet of used planes.
Just a couple, packed with emergency relief supplies that included camping gear, MRE’s, water and first aid kits.
The goal was to have them fueled up and wheels up the moment news hit of a disaster.
That way, people on the ground would know help is on the way.
The plan was to be less than six hours from anywhere in the world.
Ready.
Willing.
Able to help.
The victims of natural disasters would stare in wide eyed horror at the catastrophe God had wrought, and know that they would not have to sleep under the stars that night because help would be there.
Warm cup of soup. Sleeping bag rated to .40 below. Sleeping pad and a pop up dome tent big enough for the whole family.
God, I loved that idea so much, and like so many ideas, it fell by the wayside.
There were other aid organizations doing the same or more.
Like Nestle, the company, building millions of meal kits that go straight to areas impacted.
And the sheer magnitude of disasters around the globe meant that my planned planes would be airborne fifty weeks out of the year.
At a rough cost of $8000 per hour.
No wonder everybody asks for cash donations.
Helping is expensive.
Besides, we have a ton of helpers that are setting good examples for local response.
I have never been more proud of people than the Cajun Navy.
Every time there’s massive flooding, a fleet of good old boys grab their boats and head toward the water.
Helping.
When tornadoes rip through communities here in the South, I watch news stories about fleets of electric trucks rolling in right after, working to get power back up.
And Sheep Dog vets on their heels, trailers full of water, and blankets and stuff to make sandwiches.
Which lets me know, we don’t need celebrities to ask us to help.
We got this.
And even if I can’t send pilots around the globe to deliver succor to those in need, I can do what I can from here.
It’s not enough.
It’s never enough.
The scope of it is too big.
My idea of moving a million refugees into the Mississippi Delta to repopulate small towns is too ambitious.
Sending money to an aid organization isn’t.
Donating clothes and household items to send overseas isn’t either.
Give what you can.
Do what you can.
And still pray.
I don’t know that I trust a celebrity or politician who says those words in a press conference.
They ring hollow.
False.
I do know that you and I talking to God one on one, putting that good vibe out in the Universe, might do something for the collective good.
A million people vibrating on that same prayer frequency just might help.
So send those too, if you’ve got them.
Ask for comfort for the weary. Ask for peace for the survivors.
And ask for miracles for the babies.
They need them.
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