I’m not a geologist, or an engineer, or anything else that requires a thorough knowledge of math and science. I never excelled at those subjects, and I’m not about to start trying. Still, even without scientific proof or solid numbers, I do worry about running out of things. Based on a quick inventory of my house, I have a fear of running out of light bulbs and toilet paper. And I dread the morning I wake up to discover I’m out of coffee. I assume that at one point in history I existed beneath the sea, because very shortly after my current life began I was terrified that running out of water was imminent. My parents must have thought it was a bit strange that their four-year old was alarmed by people who left their sprinklers running all afternoon.
I don’t think any past-life regression is necessary in explaining my fear that we’re going to run out of gas sometime in the not-too-distant future. My feeling that it will happen is not based on statistics, or science, or projections of any sort. It’s based on our stupidity when it comes to resources and our complete disregard for the environment. Who cares if chemicals are bad for the earth when a golf course is part of the equation? As long as the shareholders are happy, who cares if we shovel toxic food onto the plates of our young? And who really cares about gas mileage and lefty issues like emissions control when it comes to our cars? Years ago I had a conversation with a woman that I’ll never forget. Energy conservation wasn’t her thing – her description, not mine. She had children to think about. One of her sons had asthma and she lived in a suburb without a hospital, so her minivan was a medical necessity. The environmentalists in Portland, she told me, need to get a life and stop trying to control other people whose needs they simply do not understand. Another woman I knew drove an SUV the size of my kitchen because she preferred to have as much as possible between her and other drivers. She felt safer that way.
Recently, a conservative talk show host asked her listeners whether or not they think the city of Portland is discriminating against them because they drive cars. Not nearly enough, in my opinion, but I didn’t call. I listened instead to one caller after another carry on about how unfair it is that bicyclists don’t have to pay registration fees, and how every auto owner in Multnomah County has to pay a fee so that we can repair a bridge that’s about to collapse, and how our mayor is obsessed with Denmark – he’s so gay! – and he’s going to start monitoring everyone’s bike usage and assess penalty taxes on those who don’t bike enough, and on, and on, and on. Many of them called in on their cell phones, from their cars. What, I wondered, are these people going to say when we are simply out of gas? And by out of gas I do not mean expensive gas, or rationed gas – I mean out, gone. In African nations with terminal food shortages, do people call the local talkies to rant about how inconvenient and unfair it all is when the famine is staring them straight in the face? I doubt they do. My guess is that they’re probably kind of busy starving to death. I’m not saying that people in Africa go without food because it’s wasted when the supplies are running high. I’m just saying that when we’re out of gas, a bike might come in handy, even if it’s made by Socialists.
But for the record, I’m no better when it comes to this type of logic. I’m trying to flush the hypocrisy out of my system, but it’s an ongoing process. I leave my front porch lights on when I go out after dark, which is totally unnecessary. But I’m less antsy when I come home, because the lights tend to scare away the possums that cut through my yard. So, thanks to a few hours of irresponsible electricity consumption, for the five seconds I spend walking from the gate to the front door, I am not scared.
I don’t think any past-life regression is necessary in explaining my fear that we’re going to run out of gas sometime in the not-too-distant future. My feeling that it will happen is not based on statistics, or science, or projections of any sort. It’s based on our stupidity when it comes to resources and our complete disregard for the environment. Who cares if chemicals are bad for the earth when a golf course is part of the equation? As long as the shareholders are happy, who cares if we shovel toxic food onto the plates of our young? And who really cares about gas mileage and lefty issues like emissions control when it comes to our cars? Years ago I had a conversation with a woman that I’ll never forget. Energy conservation wasn’t her thing – her description, not mine. She had children to think about. One of her sons had asthma and she lived in a suburb without a hospital, so her minivan was a medical necessity. The environmentalists in Portland, she told me, need to get a life and stop trying to control other people whose needs they simply do not understand. Another woman I knew drove an SUV the size of my kitchen because she preferred to have as much as possible between her and other drivers. She felt safer that way.
Recently, a conservative talk show host asked her listeners whether or not they think the city of Portland is discriminating against them because they drive cars. Not nearly enough, in my opinion, but I didn’t call. I listened instead to one caller after another carry on about how unfair it is that bicyclists don’t have to pay registration fees, and how every auto owner in Multnomah County has to pay a fee so that we can repair a bridge that’s about to collapse, and how our mayor is obsessed with Denmark – he’s so gay! – and he’s going to start monitoring everyone’s bike usage and assess penalty taxes on those who don’t bike enough, and on, and on, and on. Many of them called in on their cell phones, from their cars. What, I wondered, are these people going to say when we are simply out of gas? And by out of gas I do not mean expensive gas, or rationed gas – I mean out, gone. In African nations with terminal food shortages, do people call the local talkies to rant about how inconvenient and unfair it all is when the famine is staring them straight in the face? I doubt they do. My guess is that they’re probably kind of busy starving to death. I’m not saying that people in Africa go without food because it’s wasted when the supplies are running high. I’m just saying that when we’re out of gas, a bike might come in handy, even if it’s made by Socialists.
But for the record, I’m no better when it comes to this type of logic. I’m trying to flush the hypocrisy out of my system, but it’s an ongoing process. I leave my front porch lights on when I go out after dark, which is totally unnecessary. But I’m less antsy when I come home, because the lights tend to scare away the possums that cut through my yard. So, thanks to a few hours of irresponsible electricity consumption, for the five seconds I spend walking from the gate to the front door, I am not scared.
