My Big Fat Carbon Footprint

hand holding earth by jannoon028 at freedigitalphotos.net

hand holding earth by jannoon028 at freedigitalphotos.net

The weight of my carbon footprint has been keeping me up at night.

I sure do miss the good old days when I’d be overjoyed to find a public bathroom stocked with toilet paper and soap. Show me a recently cleaned floor and seat covers and you’ll see me doing a little “happy dance” as an encore to the “I have to pee dance” I’m usually doing on my way in.

But on a recent visit to the movies, I confronted yet another in a growing number of environmental dilemmas. The facilities were fine, but after I washed my hands I stood stunned by indecision, paralyzed by choices: Should I dry my hands with a paper towel or use the air hand dryer?

“Dryers help protect the environment,” a sign proclaimed. “They save trees from being used for paper towels. They eliminate paper towel waste.” They also suck down electricity and dry out my skin, which increases my hand lotion consumption considerably. Nobody ever considers the Nivea trees.

I also vaguely recall reading something about hand dryers increasing the amount of bacteria in the air, because they suck up your germs then spew them back out onto the next customer. Eww! Just the thought of that is enough to make me resort to my son’s preferred drying method–wiping his wet hands off on my jeans.

“Paper or plastic?” I must have a mental shopping block, because somehow I only remember to bring my canvas bags to Trader Joes, not Vons. I guess I could shop exclusively at Trader Joes, but my husband insists on Kellogg’s Raisin Bran and Tropicana Orange Juice, neither of which TJ’s stocks. Besides, don’t I get some carbon offset credits for reading Star Magazine and the Enquirer in line at Vons and not actually paying for any dead trees that put Britney or Paris on the cover? I suppose if nobody ever read about either of those girls, we might just save the planet. But would such a planet really be worth saving?

I try to do my part. I wish Vons would do theirs, by just charging me for the stupid paper bags (which I always intend to reuse for wrapping paper), so I wouldn’t be embarrassed to leave Ben and Jerry melting in the cart while I run outside to get my canvas bags.

Of course I’m environmentally embarrassed when I do go out to my gigantic gas guzzling Mercury Grand Marquis to get the totes for my melted Stephen Colbert’s Americone Dream.

Here’s the thing: I can’t afford a Prius. Plus I’m not a great driver. Tooling around town in a big safe American car that makes people steer clear of that 80-year-old granny driving is really a safety gesture of good will for the whole community. Seems like I should get some kind of carbon credit for that.

If nothing else, I know I get big carbon points for just being poor. Thanks to our frugal packrat of a landlord, everything in our house is recycled, from the carpet remnants on the floor to the river rock on the walls. Even most of our furniture is family heirlooms, i.e. old junk rescued from the dumpster. Yes, this is quite the P.C. household. Our landlord once spent three hours trying to repair a florescent light that I eventually replaced at Home Depot for $5.99.

My greatest virtue is that rather than succumb to the consumerist temptation to “trade up” a model, I’ve made a commitment to stick to the same old husband. Not only does that cut out the environmental impact of maintaining two separate households, think of all that drive time and paper we’re saving for the lawyers. When you add in the extra showers I’d be taking if I were single, and the hydrocarbons from the hair spray I’d be using if I were dating, I can kick off those heavy carbon shoes entirely. Better hang on tight to your peace prize, Al Gore: I’ll be wearing my carbon halo tonight.

When Leslie’s not agonizing over her carbon footprint, she’s usually on email at email. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.
Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on November 23, 2007.

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