Hello Sir. Gotta minute?

I don’t know about you, but I absolutely HATE it when I hear those words. Especially since they are usually uttered when I honestly do NOT have a minute to spare - such as during my all-too-fleeting lunch hour. Picture it. I have just darted out of my office to fight the traffic and hopefully succeed in killing two birds with one stone – a shopping errand, AND lunch. With a little bit of luck, following errand-running, I will have just enough time to fight traffic to run home, check email, scarf down lunch, post to LJ, and then get back to the office before my time is up.

 

Will our Guppyman succeed in his Mission Impossible? Let’s find out.

 

So far, so good. The parking gods have smiled upon me – YES! I have lucked out finding what I need to find at the store – WOOT! I have lunch in hand – YeeHAW! I find an express checkout line – Rock ON! And as I zoom out of the store, all is looking good.

 

But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

As I leave the store, a love-bead-wearin, non-shampoo-usin’, dred-lock sportin’, tie-dye glarin’, peace-lovin’ gal with a Greenpeace clipboard stops me, rather assertively, with that painfully-polite expression that is the subject of my post. And at that moment, I cast my thoughts back a couple of decades.

 

The year was 1989. The radio played “When I See You Smile” and “Eternal Flame”. The news reports were all abuzz about the fall of the Berlin Wall. And I worked for the Public Interest Research Group in Florida. Naïve-Pagan-Hippy-wannabe-starving-college-kid that I was, I wanted to do my part to help the environment and fight the system. My job involved door-to-door canvassing to encourage people to become members of our organization, and thus “support environmental causes”. I wasn’t sure what they all were, but I was sure that they were all good causes. I think at the time, the really big push involved banning offshore oil drilling (or was it saving the everglades? Or protecting the Florida Keys? I can’t be sure, anymore). In any case, evening after evening, I would go through my “save the planet!” schpeel, door to door, while people either refused to listen, or slammed the door in my face. In some rare instances, a few listened and even contributed. I gave my canned schpeel about how “Only Membership” would make a difference. And what would their membership give them? Well, besides informational brochures, it would ultimately help their voice to be heard in Congress. Translation – we had a paid lobbyist who would argue environmental causes in Washington. In time, I would come to realize that the very political machine that I loathed so much, I was actually encouraging through my efforts. GAK!

 

Since that time, I have learned to be more of a skeptic. Do I necessarily agree with the tactics of seemingly well-meaning organizations? Do I necessarily agree with the stance and views of well-meaning organizations? Should I contribute my hard-earned dollars to a group who supposedly represents my best interests? Excuse me, but how would you know what my best interests are if you don’t even know me? Sorry PETA. I DO believe in the ethical treatment of animals, but I also believe in eating meat. So I guess we can’t be friends. Sorry Greenpeace. I DO believe in being environmentally conscious – but not to the point of eco-terrorism. I guess we too will have to disagree. As for the lobbyist organizations? They can all just bite me!

 

“I’m sorry”, I said sincerely to the Greenpeace gal who blocked my way to the parking lot. “I really don’t have time. I’m running late.” “Oh,” said the Warrior Princess, as she stepped in front of me (key phrase, stepped IN FRONT of me). “But I’ll only make you a little bit later.” Clearly, she must have been under the misguided perception that if she used a soft voice and batted her baby-seal eyes at me, I would think twice before clubbing her mercilessly to escape her rudely blocking my exit. “SORRY!” I said, as I passed her quickly in a move learned on the dance floor. “I really do NOT have time to speak with you,” I said unapologetically. And thus, I made my way back to my car.

 

Looking back at the surprised frown on her face, she was probably convinced that I am just another uncaring lug who doesn’t give a care about the planet. And funny enough - twenty years ago, that was me – frowning at “The Man” in his business-clothes, clearly too busy to care. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was casting such a harsh judgment without even knowing it. And now that I am on the other side of the clipboard? I look at the hippy-girl and remember how I was – naïve, but absolutely convinced that what I was doing was for the greater good.

 

I wish I had a solution, but I don’t. I am not happy about the way that government works, but it is a long-standing machine that I simply do not have the energy to change. I am not happy with the way many of these well-meaning organizations work, so I do not support them. When I feel strongly enough about an issue, I take to action in a grassroots way – change begins with small at-home steps. Ultimately, we all have to find our own way to do what we think is right. Right?

 

I wish her luck on her path. I’m sure that she must be frustrated with what she views as a whole society of uncaring people who each leave too-large-a-carbon-footprint. But let’s fast-forward a couple of decades. She will probably be running late from her job as a social worker or family therapist or some other half-business/half-helping-people compromise that actually pays the bills. She will only have a limited time for a quick lunch break in between seeing clients. And there, in a parking lot somewhere, she will find her path blocked by a well-meaning college kid trying to make her aware of the new planetary crisis. At that moment, I hope she looks back, blushes a little bit on the inside, and realizes that the cycle is complete.