On conservation and sentiment

I do not care if some professor in some rabbit warren of a concrete university office building calls my thinking inexact and sentimental. Sentiment— call it love— for the wild is  ultimately why Will and I became rangers. Sentiment is why any of us bother to raise children, who sometimes don’t appreciate what we do; why we care tenderly for elderly parents after age has deprived them of the memory of our names. It is why we try to salvage the juvenile delinquent, the alcoholic, the drug addict. Without it we are not human.

Jordan Fisher Smith, Nature Noir

Bury it in the yard

I agree that nuclear power plants are pretty safe. What I find disturbing is how boosters of nuclear power always manage to ignore the inconvenient matter of how to transport and dispose of the super-toxic stuff that comes out of them.

An article in Slate today wisely cautions against overreacting to the disaster in Japan but, again, no mention of the nuclear waste problem. Another great example of the news media’s willful ignorance and its failure to ask obvious questions.

Hot, Flat, and Crowded

“Hot, Flat, and Crowded”, Thomas L. Friedman’s authoritative and literate call to decisive action on climate change and energy policy, impressed me very much. Citing numerous sources in business, government, academia, and civil society, Friedman turns his consideration of various global environmental problems into a coherent vision for turning the crisis of climate change into an opportunity for renewed American leadership. The practicality and benefits of solving the riddle of climate change are matched only by urgency.

Checkout line

I made an impulse purchase at the grocery checkout line today. I never do that. I bought a tin of Altoid Tangerine Sours. They are “curiously strong” as the container says. I think I ate too many.

I bring, when I remember, my own cloth bags to the store to carry groceries. The man behind me said, “that’s a great idea.” “They save me a lot of plastic bags,” I said. I used to have way too many plastic bags jammed in a corner.

“I have my own bags,” I reminded the bag girl. So she stopped bagging and then left. Often the baggers take that as “I don’t want you to bag my groceries.” I don’t get it.