Mary Belk: We can't get something for nothing

I was raised by a long line of puritan relatives who proclaimed, “You never get something for nothing.” But I’m a slow learner.

I tell myself I’m just trying to be a good American. The get-rich-quick sentiment has become part of our heritage. The first settlers took whatever land they wanted free of charge. Later the Homestead Act entitled families to property as long as they worked the land.

The idea of getting something free has been passed from generation to generation. In the 1960s, grocery stores offered S&H Green Stamps. Tiny stamps were given for each dollar spent. After licking hundreds of stamps and attaching them to the Green Stamp book, you could exchange them for merchandise. Everybody knew the stores that gave stamps charged more for groceries, but it was worth it to be able to pore over the catalogue and pick a toaster or lawn chair.

Why can’t we be more like the Bushmen, the little people of the Kalahari Desert? They refuse to accept gifts because they don’t want to feel inferior to the giver. If a Bushman is offered a gift, he says that it’s worthless. By refusing the gift, he cools the giver’s heart.

I certainly have never been tempted to refuse a gift. For years I entered contests and visited time-share promotions. I was sure I had sworn off this fruitless pastime until I got a call asking if I had registered to win a truck. I remembered that I had. “Well, you didn’t win the truck,” the cheerful voice told me, “but you did win a propane gas grill.”

This tweaked my interest since my charcoal grill had recently bit the dust. All I had to do was tour a nearby resort area.

I unenthusiastically drove the 20 miles to a man-made lake that turned out to be the color of stewed prunes. I parked the car and plodded up the steps of the office building, a depressing quadruple-wide trailer. Inside, the walls were battleship gray and the furniture pea soup green.

A young woman dressed in jeans and a polyester blouse greeted me and led me to a table by the window. She spread her documents out like an oversized fan and began her sales pitch using words that were clipped and choppy like someone practicing an unfamiliar language.

She took a drag on her Marlboro letting a cloud of chokey fumes float from her nostrils into mine. Apparently, she hadn’t heard the news about secondhand smoke. I turned toward the open window and saw a woebegone looking couple walking to their car. The man was carrying a miniature grill under his arm. I squirmed uncomfortably on the itchy brown cushion. I knew in that moment that I’d given up my Saturday afternoon and would end up with nothing more than a Barbie Doll grill.

I had a feeling this experience was going to cool my heart and make me
gentle.

I can’t promise that I’ll never try to get something for nothing again, but I’m trying to go straight. Now when I get a letter stating that I have definitely won A) a new Mercedes conversion van, B) $20,000 cash or C) a set of stainless steel knives, I just ask myself, “Do I really need more knives?”

Mary Belk lives in Auburn and writes a column for the Opelika-Auburn News.