Every year as school and meeting season gets fired up, the days never seem long enough. It’s times like these one appreciates relying on help from a friend. What timing then that I receive an actual letter in the mail. Yeah, how crazy is that. Not an email, not facebook or an e-card, but there among the junk and the bills lay the rarest of treats, an actual hand written letter from a friend.
“Bryan, my man how is things?
From the bottom of my belly cuz that’s where the fire is the hottest, it’s your ol’ pal Rusty.
So, last time I heard, you spawned two girls. Well done ol’ chap. Nothing burns my goat like when good people don’t reproduce. For a while I was worried about Squamish the next generation, but the fresh crop coming up in this town is looking good, let’s hope they stick around.
In my neck of the woods the path seems to be leading to a crossroads. It’s been a while since I saw any of the “Me First” Foundation crew. I got wind their last Mother Nature awareness campaign went well with the sticker “If the Earth can’t take it, it wouldn’t have made it.” Don’t get me wrong, I still think Mother Nature is being a poor sport just because consumers won the war; but my mind is fertile soil with many seeds and it was time to move on. Besides, that battle seems long over.
Sure mankind has poisoned most of the water, land and air in a quest of excess. But who says it will end badly? Pessimists, and the poor, that’s who. Personally, I think Squamish has the right idea. Not content with simply not recycling, you punish those that do by making each and every person drive their cars and trucks to recycle. Ha-ha-ha, sorry I have to repeat that because it’s just too good. Everyone has to drive their vehicles to recycle.
See, that’s why I don’t worry anymore, especially about recycling. Not that I’ve ever had much to recycle. Personally, I’ve always been more of a reduce and reuse man. But reducing and reusing hurt bottom lines so, like all my tastes, I’m in the ‘fun yet shunned’ few.
Which is fine by me since it’s apparently obvious that paying attention is for the birds. The other birds, not your good friend Rusty. When I pay attention it’s never good. People are dumping whatever they want, wherever they want. Sure you guys get poisoned rivers and oiled up estuaries but have you seen the colors floating up and out of Trail, BC? And this, in a country that has enough money to at least pretend it’s regulated.
No, I’m much happier living off the grid and on the road. So, if you’re trying to track me down just look for the van with my new motto ‘All anyone wants is for their fancy to be tickled.’
Keeping my good eye out for you,