Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Would You Like Waste with That?
I'm not the world's greatest environmentalist, but I try. I'm particularly proud of the fact that in 10 years, I've only put about 40,000 miles on my car. I would far rather go to work via walking, biking, or public transit than deal with a driving commute, so my car is used only for weekend errands and vacations. Yesterday I went to the gas station to fill up in anticipation of one of those vacations, and some poor credit card company employee approached me while I was a captive audience.
"Do you want to know how much you can save on the gas you buy every week?" he asked me. "Actually, I only fill up about once every other month," I answered truthfully. His eyes widened in shock, but he dutifully attempted to continue his sphiel until I informed him that I already had a credit card, thanks.
After taking the ol' Saturn in for its tune-up, I took my semiannual trip to McDonald's. Can't stand their burgers, but I love their fries, and you can get grilled chicken sandwiches on fairly yummy buns there now. So I ordered a sandwich and a medium fry. The perky cashier looked almost offended when I refused her offer to get a drink, since a combo was only ten cents more. "I don't need a drink," I said lamely, since I didn't feel like explaining that I try not to drink soda because of all the sugar and my dental health, you see, and why waste a paper cup and plastic lid when I've got a bottle of water in my backpack, anyway? Then, as she finished filling my order, she reflexively grabbed a handful of about 10 katsup packets for my medium fries, which I also refused. That time she shot me a glare of annoyance, I suppose for so rudely interrupting her routine. "I, uh, I'm going home..." I blurted out before wondering why I should feel like apologising for refusing to take katsup that I wasn't going to use.
It's telling that I managed to shock two people in a single day by simply going about my daily tasks and refusing offers for things that I neither need nor want. Crazed consumption is just so tightly woven into the nature of North American society, I wonder how in heck we think we're going to actually reduce our waste and our emissions? I mean, I'm aware of the fact that I frequently compromise my environmentalism for reasons of affordability and convenience. Yet it seems that the small things I do are considered strange and unusual by the people around me.
I'll just have to feel gratified in the small victories. Now that shopping bags cost 5 cents each in Ontario, I no longer have to interrupt every check-out person with a hasty, "We brought our own bags!" before they start throwing everything automatically into the plastic ones. And our local grocery store reversed its decision to start packing their pre-made samosas in wasteful individual plastic containers after I complained. I'm hoping that means that I wasn't the only one who complained. I'm hoping more and more people start taking the time to complain in the future.
"Do you want to know how much you can save on the gas you buy every week?" he asked me. "Actually, I only fill up about once every other month," I answered truthfully. His eyes widened in shock, but he dutifully attempted to continue his sphiel until I informed him that I already had a credit card, thanks.
After taking the ol' Saturn in for its tune-up, I took my semiannual trip to McDonald's. Can't stand their burgers, but I love their fries, and you can get grilled chicken sandwiches on fairly yummy buns there now. So I ordered a sandwich and a medium fry. The perky cashier looked almost offended when I refused her offer to get a drink, since a combo was only ten cents more. "I don't need a drink," I said lamely, since I didn't feel like explaining that I try not to drink soda because of all the sugar and my dental health, you see, and why waste a paper cup and plastic lid when I've got a bottle of water in my backpack, anyway? Then, as she finished filling my order, she reflexively grabbed a handful of about 10 katsup packets for my medium fries, which I also refused. That time she shot me a glare of annoyance, I suppose for so rudely interrupting her routine. "I, uh, I'm going home..." I blurted out before wondering why I should feel like apologising for refusing to take katsup that I wasn't going to use.
It's telling that I managed to shock two people in a single day by simply going about my daily tasks and refusing offers for things that I neither need nor want. Crazed consumption is just so tightly woven into the nature of North American society, I wonder how in heck we think we're going to actually reduce our waste and our emissions? I mean, I'm aware of the fact that I frequently compromise my environmentalism for reasons of affordability and convenience. Yet it seems that the small things I do are considered strange and unusual by the people around me.
I'll just have to feel gratified in the small victories. Now that shopping bags cost 5 cents each in Ontario, I no longer have to interrupt every check-out person with a hasty, "We brought our own bags!" before they start throwing everything automatically into the plastic ones. And our local grocery store reversed its decision to start packing their pre-made samosas in wasteful individual plastic containers after I complained. I'm hoping that means that I wasn't the only one who complained. I'm hoping more and more people start taking the time to complain in the future.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Media Doofus of the Day
"We all have to remember that Michael Jackson wasn't just about music. He was about so much more. He was about... um... pop culture. And.... um.... he wanted to change the world."
Don't bust a brain cell, random entertainment talking head guy.
Don't bust a brain cell, random entertainment talking head guy.
Herding Cats
After talking to a kitty behaviour specialist, I'm working on training Chet, my bellicose boy cat, to respond to me rather than always expect to be responded to. He's a bit of a bitey boy, even though he loves people and enjoys cuddling. The cat lady thinks he's trying to be the top cat in the household, so she's got me clicker/treat training him to come to me when he's called.
So far we've had mixed results. Chet has always known his name; he'll look up if we mention him in casual conversation. He only responds to "Here, Chet!" about half the time, though. The other half of the time he just stares at me like, "You think I'm moving, you're crazy, lady."
However, our other cat, who doesn't really know her name, has quickly learned that "Here, Chet!" means "Mommy's giving out treats!" So she now comes when I call for him, even though I never give her a treat unless he's actually come and has eaten his treat first. (I want him to respond to me, not to the other cat getting a treat.) My husband laughed at me last night when I was calling, "Here, Chet! Here, Chet!" in vain, while Abby ran enthusiastically over to me and waited for her treat.
Darn cats.
So far we've had mixed results. Chet has always known his name; he'll look up if we mention him in casual conversation. He only responds to "Here, Chet!" about half the time, though. The other half of the time he just stares at me like, "You think I'm moving, you're crazy, lady."
However, our other cat, who doesn't really know her name, has quickly learned that "Here, Chet!" means "Mommy's giving out treats!" So she now comes when I call for him, even though I never give her a treat unless he's actually come and has eaten his treat first. (I want him to respond to me, not to the other cat getting a treat.) My husband laughed at me last night when I was calling, "Here, Chet! Here, Chet!" in vain, while Abby ran enthusiastically over to me and waited for her treat.
Darn cats.
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