Gaia Found a Way, This Time

It's no secret to those around me on a daily basis that I have often fallen victim to media disease. It's an ailment that has be omnipresent since the dawn of Gutenberg and his press. Nothing sells like blood and fear. It's arguably the epitome of a cash cow in the field of journalism.

My latest symptoms include a dangerous obsession with and vulnerability to weather. No, I'm not fearing tornadoes, thunderclaps, or biblical hurricanes. I am paralyzed by the notion that by 2050, we'll find this planet to be a terribly overpopulated, water scarce, and pestilence-ridden home to blast-furnace heat. And devoid of polar bears.

Well, as long as my symptoms have shifted this way for a considerably long period of time (this began when I saw former Vice President Gore's film "An Inconvenient Truth" in Santa Monica during the 2006 July heat waves), I took small steps and actions.

I don't buy trash-can liners. Accumulating plastic bags at an astounding rate (since I just moved into a new apartment and find myself driving once a week to Ikea and Target because I never thought to purchase a pizza-cutter--who does?), my collection suffices for the aforementioned purpose. We've all heard it: "Why buy something you're just going to throw away?"

Downtown Minneapolis may be home to some of the most ample parking facilities known to the modern world, it doesn't change the reality that is costs ten dollars a day to park. I ride the bus, and can happily admit to doing so out of financial rationality.

All the light bulbs in my apartment are fluorescent. I have neatly placed all the incandescents in a small plastic bag which will be turned over to my landlord upon moving out. The other bag I'll be holding will be filled with my fluorescent bulbs, because I'll be reusing them in my next home.

Chicago is a popular destination for me as my brother resides there. Going roughly three or four times a year can be costly via air. Thus I opt for the Megabus (www.megabus.com). It's the poor man's way to travel, but the funky-hip edge of their advertising and comfort of their buses eclipses any pauper-ish sentiments that may arise.

The list is extensive. More to the point, it yields an important introspective conclusion: I'm cheap. Never mind about the earth, these actions have been taken out sheer penny-pinching. My behavior is so easily validated though. People around me call me cheap.

I fire back: "I'm saving the planet."