“Mean people suck,” goes the saying, but I like to respond with “Hey, mean people have feelings too!”

I’m not always known for being the nicest person in the world. People say I can be mean sometimes. And I suppose they are right. And if you don’t like it you can shove it up your … uh, nevermind.

During my junior year of high school the newspaper staff ran a list of Christmas characters and their student likenesses. I was chosen to be the Grinch.

What an honor!

But when I’m not being mean, I’m at least trying to be nice, which is maybe how I was elected Prom King (or else, they just felt sorry for me after I sat on the bench for four years of basketball).

So there I was watching television during the Christmas break feeling bored and alone like Ebenezer Scrooge and on comes a random acts of kindness commercial which suggested several kind things people could do for each other.

I paid it no mind, really, but television can work in a rather subconscious way.

Then last week I was walking home from campus, and I spotted a city parking cop stopping his truck to give this car a ticket.

Boom, I remembered the commercial suggesting that a person could feed someone’s expired meter. And just because I hate to get parking tickets so much (I get them quite often), I decided to pay the meter before the cop could write up the ticket.

Actually, I wasn’t committing a random act of kindness, I was just wanted to spite the cop’s efforts.

I told the cop not to worry about giving the guy a ticket, and I would pay the meter myself.

He informed me that it was illegal to pay for someone else’s meter, saying that it was “interference.”

I said, “Wow! You can get arrested for a random act of kindness. These commercials on TV are telling people to do illegal things.”

Yeah, he said, someone in some big city had been arrested for it, but he was going to let me pay the guy’s meter.

I reached into my pocket for my change, but the meter only took quarters. All I had was dimes, nickels and pennies.

“Tough luck for this guy,” I said. “Write him up.”

So he gave him a parking ticket, and I kept walking. At least I tried to be nice, and I felt better for it.

It got me to thinking, “These random acts of kindness have broad powers of suggestion, even if they might be against the law.”

So I came up with some of my own. Please join the kindness revolution:

Buy a box of hypodermic needles and give them to a local junkie, but be sure it’s anonymous.

Next time you see someone who is trying to quit smoking but is jonesing for a cigarette, give them one. Don’t forget to light it, too.

Give the cymbal section help during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner by going “Pbshshsh!”

Plant a tree out in the middle of central campus between Beardshear Hall and Curtiss Hall.

Send flowers anonymously to Martin Jischke and Adam Gold. Include a love letter.

Be patriotic, French kiss the flagpole.

Think up some Greek letters for FarmHouse fraternity.

Hit someone with his “Random Acts of Kindness” book for self-pleasure.

Buy your friend who recently was arrested for drunken driving a 12-pack and the Sega game “Outrun.”

Yes, maybe we can all perform random acts of kindness after all. It just depends on what view you take. Maybe being mean can be kind after all?

This way, you’ll keep people on their toes, which is a kind thing to do, isn’t it?

I actually bought one of those little random acts of kindness books to see what the hubbub is about. I read about half of it and, while sweet, it seemed more of a book for depressed middle-aged people.

The reason I didn’t read all of it is because I was about to throw up after hearing how repugnantly kind everyone in the book was. Yes, it’s good to be kind, but there is a line. Once you cross it, you’re in the Make Me Barf Zone.

The way I figure it is that if you are mean most of the time, then it seems much more genuine when you do something kind. It’s like if you cleaned your room all the time, you’re parents didn’t appreciate it, but if you kept it messy, then when you did clean it they would appreciate you more.

My advice for middle-aged depressed folks is go to Buck Night at Welch Avenue Station (Thursday) and drink up. If you still feel depressed later that night, just pass out and you won’t be aware of your problems until the morning. And, hey, not feeling anything is a good feeling.

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Tim Frerking is a senior in journalsim and mass communication from Pomeroy. He is the opinion page editor of the Daily.