Consider yourself forewarned. When you're finished reading about Michael Chase, there's a good chance you're going to think he's out of his mind.

"It is a little crazy," Chase said Monday with an inextinguishable smile. "But crazy people get attention. People notice you."

As they undoubtedly will between 7 a.m. Thursday and 7 a.m. Friday, when Chase embarks on his second annual 24 Hours of Kindness. It's a round-the-clock marathon from Biddeford to Portland designed to put smiles on people's faces and support a nonprofit organization founded by Chase and his wife, Cara.

It's called The Kindness Center. And no, I'm not making this up.

It all started back in 2000 when Chase, whose anything-but-kind childhood had morphed into an anything-but-happy adulthood, decided there had to be more to life than just trying to keep his head above water.

He'd come from a family steeped in alcoholism – passed down from his great-grandfather to his grandfather and to his father. Along with the drinking came chronic depression and along with that came domestic violence.

"My father was very tough on me," said Chase. "We did not have a great relationship – he had a lot of bitterness about what his father did to him."

Chase grew up, got married and had a son. And over time his father, struggling mightily to dispel his own demons, began reaching out in ways he'd never done when Chase was a child.

"He started telling me that he loved me," said Chase "He started hugging me."

But then, just when it seemed his father had turned an emotional corner, he took his own life. Standing over the grave site, Chase "made a promise to him that I was going to straighten myself out, because I was not in a good place to begin with."

It began with a smorgasbord of self-help books, seminars and spiritual explorations ranging from Mahatma Gandhi to the Dalai Lama. Then in the fall of 2007, Chase and his wife announced to friends and family that they were shutting down their successful commercial photography business and, in its place, opening The Kindness Center.

"People thought I was nuts," Chase said. "And I loved it."

The center's mission: To persuade people that by being kind to themselves, kind to others and kind to the planet, they can literally change the world.

Lofty goals, to be sure. But could someone actually make a living at it?

Chase set up a Web site, but measured the daily hits in single digits. He offered his services as a speaker at schools and businesses, but let's just say the phone didn't exactly ring off the hook. He and his wife sold their photography equipment to get by and tried, as the economy went from bad to worse, to keep the faith.

"In the first six months, my income was $500," Chase said.

Then one day in early 2008, the light bulb went on.

Chase, a longtime fan of the television series "24" before he decided to cut back on his consumption of TV violence, got to thinking about how Jack Bauer (the show's hero) spent much of each season's 24-hour time frame shooting and blowing up everything and everyone in sight.

"I thought, wouldn't it be cool if somebody went out there and did just nice things for 24 hours," he said. "I'm like the total opposite of Jack Bauer – instead of a gun, I'm hitting the street with flowers and balloons."

Chase set his sights on April 15, figuring income tax day was when "people are at their grumpiest."

Starting at 9 a.m., he went to a school in Biddeford with balloons and cookies and shared his message with the kids. Next he popped into a Dunkin' Donuts and bought coffee and bagels for the whole line. Moving on, he saw someone moving furniture, pulled over and lent a hand.

That night, an hour before midnight, he headed for the Portland post office on Forest Avenue. Sure enough, the parking lot was crawling with last-minute taxpayers – some muttering...