My Faith in Humanity Gets a Much Needed Jump Start

It's easy to become a bitter, cynical curmudgeon these days.

Advancements in technology have made in-person interpersonal communication a dying art form. Twenty four hour news networks and sensationalistic local news telecasts highlight a seemingly endless parade of misdeeds and atrocities committed against and by seemingly normal individuals. The economy is in the toilet thanks in large part to a system perpetuated and destroyed by greed.

Sometimes it is hard to see the good in people.

I fall victim myself to the need to vilify society, in part because it is an easy way to pass the blame when I screw up; in part because it is easier to notice when I've been wronged than when I've righted; in part because encounters with assholes and unfortunate circumstances tend to make better blogs.

Ultimately, however, I still believe that the vast majority of people are good-natured, kind, and more than willing to help someone in need. I still believe that, and I will continue to believe that as long as my van keeps running.

You see, I run my vandominium like an office of sorts. I've got my laptop set up to a wireless card so I can be hooked up to the internet at all times, and it is generally set up on my office desk (which happens to be a blue bucket, but still) and plugged into an outlet from a power inverter. In fact, I'm writing this blog from my van right now.

The only problem with my setup (you know, besides the whole bucket thing) is that the power inverter draws power from the van. When power runs low, the inverter lets out a screeching noise to indicate the van is almost out of battery power. Once in a while, I will fall asleep or have my headphones on, or do something equally as stupid and careless, and my van's power will be too drained to start the engine.

More recently, as I switched from my broken laptop to a new one, the screech tends to happen after the battery power is drained rather than right before. As a result, I find myself needing a jump to start my car rather fequently.

Now, because of the frequency of this issue, I carry charger cables in my van. I know how to jump start the van very easily, and all I require from a person willing to help is that they have a car and one minute of spare time. Asking for a jump is not asking for much.

Still, it requires someone to take a moment from their day, as well as the trust that a stranger has no ulterior motives for approaching them. It is a request that could very easily be turned down for any number of reasons, not the least of which is that nobody owes me anything.

The beautiful fact of the matter, however, is that I have never had trouble finding someone to help me jump start the van. I have lost battery power at least twenty times on this trip, and it has never taken me more than a couple minutes to find someone willing to help me.

I have needed help in the morning and at night, in busy parking lots and relatively empty lots. I have asked middle aged women and young men. I have approached individuals with extremely nice cars and individuals living out of not-so-nice cars. I have run out of power near the border of Mexico and near the border of Canada, in Oregon and in Texas, in Idaho and in Georgia, and it has never been a problem finding someone to help out.

In fact, in over twenty attempts (and I'm being conservative with the numbers) I've only been turned down three times. Once, by a security guard who was not allowed to use the company vehicle in that way, once by someone who had been having car issues and feared his car would react poorly, and once by someone who just plain looked scared of me. In all three cases, the next person I approached was happy to oblige.

When I had the chance to return the favor recently and provide a jump for a man in Houston, he was so grateful that he immediately started giving me business tips. He was living out of his car, but had a background with computers, and did his best to relay all of the business tricks he had learned purchasing laptops, fixing them and adding new software, then turning them for a profit.

The man did not have much, but these secrets were his to give, something he could provide of value.

He was happy to give them because he was so pleasantly surprised by my willingness to give his car a jump when he needed it.

I was happy to tell him with confidence and sincerity that almost anyone would do the same.