one flew over the cuckoo's nest

Last night the doorbell rang; such a foreign sound.  Who randomly drops by anymore without warning? Unheard of and almost insulting, yes? Or perhaps I'm just a crusty cow. I knew it couldn't have been the gaylords because if they want me they just yell up or ring the bell incessantly.

So, with Diggers savagely barking behind me, I opened the door and there he was...the sweetest most endearing face.  He was a young man in his early 20s wearing a CAMH shirt and holding a clipboard. Ah, the sweet purity of door-to-door marketing.  Just as archaic as the doorbell-ring itself.  His name was Mark and by all accounts appeared "normal", if you don't count his wide-open eyes full of expressive enthusiasm for the topic at hand - the people that live in the CAMH hospital.  Normally my 'go-to' would be to immediately tell him "no, thank you" or "can you leave me some information?", but I wanted to listen to what he had to say.  Why?  1) I'll spend hours listening to someone talk passionately about something they believe in and 2) because crazy people hold a special place in my heart and 3) I know and love(d) people with mental illness.    

Ironically, his little speech was in reference to the huge stigma against people with mental illness and addictions, so I probably shouldn't throw around the word "crazy" so loosely.  But if you know me, you know I mean it in the most endearing way.  Because hell, on some level, we're all crazy.  In fact, if you look up 'crazy' in the dictionary it's defined as "mentally strange". I rest my case. But, we just need a greater understanding for those that can't control it. Moral of the story: whether people are labeled as small crazy, medium crazy or large crazy - they all have one thing in common.  They make the world a more poetic, artistic and interesting place.

So, for Mark, I'd like extend his door-to-door message to you. 

Empathize. Don't Criticize.