Earlier this month my Spotify music account was hacked. The offending asshole* changed the primary email and password of my account, locking me out of it (how rude!). The team at Spotify were awesome and managed to give me back control of my music but the bastard had deleted all my playlists. Now, it’s one thing to steal someone’s music. But to delete my playlists was just a dirty thing to do and I was furious. Especially because one of those playlists included more than seven hours of music for a very special party we’re having in Melbourne when we visit in September. Shit just got personal. And I was all set to write an entire ejo devoted to cussing this guy out, and giving him what for.
So, what happened? Well, perspective, I guess. As you know, it’s that Ramadan time of year. A time when Muslims around the world show their devotion to god by fasting – refraining from eating food and drinking water during daylight hours. Doing this must be difficult at the best of times – but when you add abject poverty, housing that is unfit to live in, zero social standing and a lack of even the most basic of human rights to the mix, it becomes downright intolerable.
So, I had the choice of fretting over some random dick depriving me of my music for 24 hours, or I could get off my ass and organise an Iftar handout for a few men. I chose the latter. For the uninitiated, Iftar is the meal that breaks the daily Ramadan fast when the sun goes down. It’s a big deal in Dubai, with every restaurant in the city offering huge buffet feasts for the privileged amongst us. A recent article in a local newspaper highlighted the incalculable waste produced by these buffets. The amount of food that gets thrown away is simply mindboggling. Especially when you think about the masses of less fortunate, unseen people, hidden away in the industrial desert areas of the city. The men who work exhausting hours, struggling to scrape together the equivalent of AUD290 a month (working six days a week, fourteen hours a day), most of which they send back home to their families.
I posted my intentions on Facebook and within a couple of days we had raised enough money to feed 470 men. Four hundred and seventy men!!!!!! I want to thank each and every person who donated money for this worthy cause. Unfortunately, none of you could join us for the fun part of actually giving out the meals, so I thought that on this occasion I would put a face to your donations in the hope that it personalises your contribution. Check out the photos below to find out who you bought a meal for.
For those of you who would like to contribute to our next handout, I’ve got a rippa idea! I’m super keen to organise an ice-cream truck handout. Yes, of course it’s wonderful (truly wonderful) to do a food handout but how amazing would it be to gift ice-creams!!! Think back to when you were a kid and you heard the ice-cream truck melody floating down the street on a hot summer evening, announcing the imminent arrival of THE ICE-CREAM MAN!!!! Don’t we all share the unadulterated joy associated with that? Wouldn’t that be an incredible thing to give these men, whose lives are so bereft of the simple pleasures we take for granted. So, I’m planning on doing this in a couple of months – around October. I won’t announce it anywhere else except Facebook so if you are interested and aren’t my Facebook friend (boohoo for you) shoot me an email/message through the comments section of this post.
Seriously, I love this guy!!!!
* OK, I can’t help myself. The email address of the pond-scum who hacked my Spotify account is firstname.lastname@example.org. Feel free to bombard this mofo with spam, random subscriptions and stern emails about respecting other people’s privacy.