Soapy Self Sacrifice

Turn on the water and wait for the temp to come up. I jump in and as fast as possible soak my mop and off the water goes. Now I take my time shampooing. I then lather up with excess suds and I’m ready for water again. Rinse and the water is off again. At this point my fat ass is a little winded so I’m glad the bottle of conditioner is nearly empty thus light enough for me to handle.
After the conditioning goodness is in place on the raggedy string that poses as my hair the bar of soap is pressed into action. Working at a pace that would be admired by those driving on the salt flats it takes little time to be as slick as a cube of ice on a warm wood floor. I would take my time but without the warm comfort of water to distract me I am very aware of how ridiculous I look while naked. It seems as though the water is a veil that hides my made-by-beer and bad living gut that is sure to protrude to record proportions facilitating a need for a larger shower space. Not to worry though. With the water back flowing warm and eyes closed while rinsing yet again all is well in my wet and wonderful world.
Having the luxury of a shower head I can wield like a lightsaber all foamy residue is rinsed away from even the most stubborn areas. Then with the lightsaber back in its scabbard I take a few selfish seconds enjoying what a shower used to be for me.
I used to love the time spent slowly rinsing away the day’s accumulation of grit and grime. Listening to the calming cascade of water as it splashed on the walls and floor I have wanted to take naps. Stress and bad mojo circle and finally drain away in my own little isolation compartment.
Well, what the hell am I to do now. Water at a premium, electricity too, I now feel guilty if what was once was a sanctuary is much more than the time I would spend trying to solve an algebraic equation. Is this going Green or is it some weird self-flagellation in reverence to some cruel and sadistic deity?
Going Green, what a pain in the ass. How Green I would be if constantly bitching about George W was good for Mother Nature. How Green I would be if drinking beer, eating corn chips and convincing myself how funny I am was good for the environment. How Green I would be if the lack of a girl friend would significantly decrease the size of my carbon footprint. Don’t think that I couldn’t fill the World Wide Internets with more slightly amusing self-deprecating slogans.
I guess that since actually Going Green means sacrificing luxury or changing bad habits that it will catch on only when people see a neighboring town spontaneously erupt in flame and toxins. Anybody ever hear about a river that caught fire in Ohio? Chernobyl, any one? Exxon Valdez, anyone. Union Carbide, Three Mile Island, Eastern Garbage Patch. (More about the garbage patch later)
So, since when I think about our planet I think about an egg in the microwave oven, I take short, irritating and sometimes uncomfortable showers. There are a few good things about my sacrifice – I get to complain about something else, I get to feel superior to all other showing human beings. And, by the way, when I am standing in the shower singing my peeing in the shower song, while I pee in the shower, I imagine myself peeing in George W’s Cheerios.

Loud gasbag Going Green

Blessed with too much free time I have had way too much time to think of things that annoy me. Trying to figure out how to move closer into a subsistence living condition I think about gardening, water conservation, energy conservation and a reduced carbon footprint. Reading newspapers and internet articles and watching the tube you can’t eat two chips without “Going Green” being shoved down your throat. In a perfect world of caring and concern about such issues “Going Green” would be a concept that I would gladly embrace with the same passion as a loving cuddle with Salma Hayek. But “Going Green” seems to have a connate with the same color scheme yet a different goal – “Spending Green”.
After some frustrating research about how I could make a difference I have found out that in order to go green you must make Corporate America even richer. I read about $5,000.00 toilets that save water, about money saving appliances, about more efficient automobiles, about electric lawnmowers, about solar panels. All these things may help but how can my broke ass do any of them. I guess what I can do is not to buy a huge, gas guzzling SUV that I can’t afford. Wow, I feel so good about myself. It seems to me that our consumer driven economy cares little about rising temperatures and more about cramming a television into every nook and cranny of an American household.
I just thought with all the hype that quick and easy things for an average American douche bag, like myself, to do would be more accessible. Things like hanging the laundry on a line during the warmer months, using organic and eco-friendly fertilizers and purchasing more practically packaged household goods.
A Google search, the seemingly only way to garner information, got me to a related site. The tips were as follows.
Turn off your lights when not in use.
Use compact fluorescent bulbs.
Buy energy star windows.
Close blinds or shades to keep sunlight from heating the house in summer.
Tune up the HVAC system.
And several recycling tips with the same type of revelations as the tips above.
I wonder if the geniuses who created this website know what a condescending jackass is. Gee thanks for going lowest common denominator. They didn’t tell me not to crap in the front yard. Does that mean not to or is that the trick that will turn the tide. Nothing like somebody assuming I’m a dumbass to keep me coming back.
I hope to shed a little light on some of the things I have come across in the coming weeks. Things like the Eastern Trash Patch and recycling. I hope that some of you actually read this far so I can plead with you for comments and commentary. In the past I have asked that my stuff be held close and not distributed and more importantly not corrected. Now I ask for all you got. If you think, as I do, that I am a loud gasbag that needs a job, a wife, a clue, a salad and maybe a week at Betty Ford let me know.
Thanks