BLAME IT ON THE BABIES – A Cock and Bull Story

People with strong belief systems can either be a good and truly inspiring thing…or a furrow-your-brow and clasp-the-sides-of-your-head baaaad kind of thing. While it can be easy enough to exchange simple pleasantries and common courtesies with a strongly-opinionated person, once ideas and agendas clash, things can get a little tense. Jaws clench, eyes dart around in all sorts of obviously uncomfortable directions and awkward periods of silence ensue. Without being blatantly rude and announcing to them that you’d rather endure voluntary bloodletting via 1001 hungry little leeches than suffer another minute in their company, I’ve found that the best strategy to secure your escape from their company is to nonchalantly self-dial an URGENT incoming call on your cell phone (with covert props to your fancy finger work). Unfortunately, with frigid temperatures of 30 degrees Fahrenheit/-1.1 Celsuis in my neck of the woods, my popsicle-digits were unexpectedly immobilized this Tuesday, which made for sloppy and ineffective (albeit frantic) button pushing. Technology was clearly not on my side.

Initially, though, he seemed nice enough. We both showed up at 7:00 A.M. yesterday morning for a Search Engine Optimization training course and had a bit of time to kill before the doors opened, so we began to chat. He filled me in on his family, work responsibilities, SEO expertise -- you know, the normal stuff – and then he made one seemingly innocuous comment that polarized us in an instant: “What’s the point of telephone books, now that we have the internet??…I mean, as soon as I get them, I chuck ‘em in the garbage.” Actually, I agree that our tree-killing-number-bibles are pointless in today’s instant-gratification-information society – I let my fingers do the walking (on my keyboard) when I need to hunt down a telephone number. Also, in his defense, I think that it is absolutely ridiculous that people across America receive an average of 7 massive phone number packed yearly sequels with riveting titles like: Main Street USA. Main Street USA, Revisited. The Bride Of Main Street, USA.  Main Street Gone Wild, USA. Main Street Evil Death Wish, USA. Main Street USA vs. Street Main ASU – Mirror Image Devil Twins With A Vendetta Against Trees. No one wants to sit around anymore reading these pointless installments, nor do they want them cluttering their counters and cupboards.

I’m not in the habit of shrouding my eco-sympathizing ways, so it was impossible for me to refrain from clarifying: “Oh…by chucking them in the garbage, I’m sure you mean to say that you recycle them.” Nervous he-he-heeees trickled out of my mouth but were immediately silenced with his response: “Nope. I throw them in the garbage, just like I said.  I know I should probably recycle stuff like that, but we don’t do that in my house.” Whaaahhhh? I couldn’t help but counter, “You have a curbside recycling service in your area, don’t you?” The trash-talking conversationalist went on to explain how he hates being told what he’s supposed to do to help the environment, and that it makes him purposefully revolt against the system.  He’s not convinced that global warming is a legitimate issue…he certainly doesn’t think that it has accelerated due to industrialization or acts of mankind…and he says that the amount of poopy-diapers that his babies have contributed to the landfill negate any possible efforts that he could make to recycle a can or a bottle. And that, folks, is precisely what is wrong with Americans today.

Now, more than ever before, we need to give ourselves a major attitude adjustment. I will keep preaching this sentiment until cloned pigs fly, but EVERY MINOR EFFORT THAT WE MAKE AS INDIVIDUALS CAN GENUINELY MAKE A DIFFERENCE…for the longevity of our planet and the human race.  If people perceived the issue of their garbage generation in the same way that they view their ability to save money, then perhaps they’d really get it. Think about that jar of spare change on your dresser, and how as you continue to add a few spare coins to it throughout the weeks and months, the jar somehow becomes full. The same can be said of our efforts to recycle basic materials and conserve resources -- little actions add up over time. Although manufacturers have not yet figured out how to create an edible diaper (despite Saturday Night Live’s wildest imaginings), using your pooping babies as a convenient scapegoat to explain away your basic eco-responsibility as a member of the human race is a bunch of bull.