Not Enough Life Boats

The United States Department of the Interior today announced its decision to list the polar bear as a threatened species because of the decline in Arctic sea ice. The polar bear -- hours before a court imposed ruling requiring a decision on this matter expired -- is now under the protection of the United States government. Interior Secretary Dirk Kempthorne is expected to explain this action by citing studies conducted in his own department indicating that the disappearance of Arctic sea ice off the coasts of Alaska and Canada may result in two thirds of the polar bear population disappearing by the middle of this century.
This is the first time the Endangered Species Act has been used to protect a species threatened by the impacts of global warming.
This is the first time -- just making sure we're clear on this -- that this government admits to direct culpability in the endangerment of a species. And now that the polar bear is on the list of 'to be protected' what, exactly, is this government that fails to provide sufficient and appropriate supplies to its soldiers going to do to protect polar bears?
Are we going to throw them life preservers? Are we going to fit them for water wings? We did this to the polar bears! So what are we going to do to help them?
Recycling newspapers seems like a trivial response. So does taking the bus to work and watching Al Gore's slide shows because those activities don't communicate outrage. Surely they are not the only responses we can muster. Surely there are more effective methods of saying to those who hold the power of life and death that greed and profligate living drown possibility.

Forever Is A Long Time

Two days ago I bought eight sheets of Forever Stamps anticipating today's postage increase. At the time of my purchase, the Post Office clerk asked if I wanted more of Forever. Her question stumped me. How far into Forever must a person buy to feel safe? And can eternity actually be purchased? I stuck with the eight sheets. I'm pretty sure I'll use them up within, say, a couple of years if I'm careful. If I'm not careful, I could probably squander forever in no time at all. In the meantime, it feels pretty good to own part of the future.

Cinderella's Second Thoughts

In the harsh light of day, Cinderella considered the possibility of Prince Charming's having absolutely no interest in discarded glass slippers.

Helping Out

In the check out line at the super market the woman in front of me purchased a loaf of bread and two apples. "Do you need help out?" the checker asked as he handed the woman her change. For perhaps half a second the checker, the woman, and I stared at the purchases. Then the woman answered the question asked so mechanically.
"Yes. I do need help out. Thanks for asking. I need help out with raising my two kids by myself. I need help out paying my rent and my utility bills. I need help out finding a third job so I can buy an apple for each of my children. I need help out paying off my mother's funeral. I need help out finding health insurance I can afford. I need all sorts of help out. I don't need help out with what I just bought, though. But I do appreciate the offer."
She picked up her bag and as she walked away the stunned checker said, "Happy Mothers' Day." The woman turned and smiled at him. "Thank you. You be sure and wish your mother the same." And she was gone.
My items purchased and bagged, the checker asked me, "Would you like assistance carrying your purchases to your car?" In the blink of an eye, this young man learned to offer only that which is possible to provide.

Blessings As Cures

Dr. Jack M. Gwaltney is the creator of a web site called 'Welcome to Common Cold'. I'm puzzled about why anyone wants to feel welcome to the common cold but welcome or not, here I am at both the website and the common cold. I do not feel welcome at all. I feel like a stranger wandering the streets of a desolate land. I know no one and I neither speak nor understand the language. You see, I rarely get colds. They are not common to me. I am researching my situation, hoping for a guide book -- a map of some sort -- to lead me to a more comfortable place where I will want to be welcomed. Tissue or cloth handkerchief? Which does less harm to the environment and more comfort to me. I choose cloth handkerchief. Dr. Gwaltney tells of a research in which healthy people allowed some lab person to drop a virus into their noses and not too surprisingly 95% of them became infected with something. Of that group of people only -- only, it is emphasized -- 75% developed symptoms of a cold. I gotta hand it to Dr. Gwaltney. That's an impressive bit of research. What mainly astonishes me is why those healthy adult volunteers felt compelled to participate in the research project at all. Isn't riding the subway or going to the Post Office exposure enough? Statistics are their own misery, though. And here's one of my current statistics. Every time I sneeze my eyes close. That's enough for my brain to handle at the moment.
By the way, the best treatment for a cold, I believe, is the 'Bless you' given each time we sneeze. And who knows. Even if we don't know who, exactly, is sneezing perhaps if we all just said 'Bless you' every couple of minutes we might, indeed, cure the common cold.

Water Water Everywhere

And another thing. A colleague told me that if I leave the cap on my plastic water bottle it will not be considered recyclable. I didn't understand what difference cap on cap off made and she couldn't explain it but I became immediately fixated on taking the cap off the water bottles before tossing them in the recycling bin. Soon I discovered I was contributing to global warming by using too many plastic water bottles. So at work I refilled my generic plastic water bottle from the office filtration system several times a day and only allowed myself a new water bottle every other week. I was doing my part and feeling good about it. Then I discovered -- from a different colleague -- that I was steadily and not so slowing poisoning myself by not only reusing my plastic water bottle but by drinking from it to begin with. I switched to a Nalgene bottle and found out my bottle was too new to be safe. I switched to an aluminum bottle and observed my memory and most of my mind leave me because everyone except me -- and maybe I, too, before I began drinking from an aluminum 'bottle' -- knew that aluminum contributes to Alzheimer's Disease. I had no more purchasable options which was good because I had spent most of my money on containers in which to carry my water. Apparently I went several days at work without drinking any water. The toxins put into my system by aluminum and plastic lessened. Luckily just as dehydration began to break down vital and even not so important bodily functions, my mind and my memory began their return. I reached blindly across my desk. My hand fell on my long unused coffee cup. Of course, I had stopped drinking coffee some time before when I discovered that it either raised or lowered my blood pressure and healed or destroyed either my liver or my kidneys. Dusty coffee cup in hand, I staggered to the filtered, reverse infused water thing near my desk, filled my cup and drank from it. Dehydration and memory loss simultaneously vanished. I refilled my cup and drank again. My cup. It had been on my desk all along. A gift from some other long ago colleague, the cup is glass. It can be washed. It can be reused. Of course, it carries with it certain risks of its own. It has no lid. I could accidentally -- or deliberately depending on which paper work is on my desk -- tip it over and spill its contents. I could drop it. It could break. Either of those scenarios might result in my feeling stupid and clumsy and even, at the very worst, cutting my fingers picking up broken glass. Even if my fingers require stitches, no polar bears will drown, no brain cells will be destroyed, and no recycling sorter will have to decide whether cap on or cap off is better for the environment.

Sorting Through Stuff

I started sorting through stuff today and in so doing became my own archaeologist. Possessions once precious now seem inexplicable. What was the purpose of those faux gold coins? Where did I get them and why did I keep them? How many paper weights does a person really need in one life? Magazines unread for twelve months beg for recycling and opportunities to become pages of yet another series of 'The Great Books'. And what about that Caribbean style straw hat given to me as a party favor at least ten years ago? Does any thrift store in the country really want it? How could I have imagined when I recorded all of those movies I'd be stuck with video cassette tapes now unplayable because my magical VCR was replaced by an even more magical DVD? My ecologically oriented self is now stuck between wanting to just put all this crap in the dumpster and knowing that the half life of a video cassette tape is probably several million years. Here's a lesson I'm beginning to consider learning. Before buying anything, perhaps I should figure out how I will get rid of it when it breaks or bores. Or at least I might consider whether or not it's something I want the planet to lug around decades after I've tossed it in the trash.