Tag Archives: Mother Nature

You’ve got to, like, turn your backyard into a garden, man

I started hanging my clothes out to dry, you know, in the sunlight, to save energy, to go a little easier on Mother Earth. But I forgot that my backyard sprinkler was set on an automatic timer, and so, without really connecting the dots at first, I couldn’t figure out why my clothes wouldn’t dry, even after spending like three or four hours under direct sunlight.

grdnnlwn

Eventually I had to be somewhere, and I really needed those pants, so I just threw everything in the dryer. And just when I heard that ding go off telling me that the spin-cycle was just about done, I noticed it, the sprinkler popped up out of the ground, I was wasting energy, and water, and sunlight. Can you even waste sunlight? I guess, right, because if my shirts weren’t out there colleting all of those photons, the grass would have used them, right? The grass, my organic heirloom tomatoes. Are they a little hungrier today? I know that sunlight is supposed to be an infinite resource, right, but are there enough direct rays to simultaneously dry my clothes and feed my backyard?

And the water, I’m positive that water is a finite resource, and so I feel even worse, wasting it all on washing my clothes, or, I guess that’s not a waste, because I need to do laundry. But re-wetting them outside with the sprinkler, not only am I stealing sunlight from the plants, but I’m also robbing them of water. Although, I guess in the whole circle of life ecosystem, some of that water probably dripped down from the clothesline to the ground.

But then even after I start to wrap my head around all of the waste, telling myself, don’t worry, it was an accident, I’m still green, I went online, I went to this green blog that I always visit, and there was a picture of this guy in Texas who uprooted his whole lawn and replaced it with a giant vegetable garden. There was a whole gardener’s manifesto, all about how using water and energy on grass is a mega-waste of the earth’s resources.

And I looked out at my own lawn and I thought, that guy’s absolutely right. Nobody eats that grass. Except for my dog, sometimes, not always, but just every once in a while we’ll go outside and he’ll start eating grass, like a goat, grass and fallen leaves. I try yelling at him to stop, but there’s no use, I’m not getting through to him. I looked it up online, “my dog is eating grass,” and all of these pet web sites told me that dogs eat grass to induce vomiting, that it’s a sign of an upset stomach.

Only, my dog didn’t vomit. I’ve noticed that when he’s about to puke, he starts licking the floor, like compulsively, and then sure enough, twenty or thirty of forty licks later, puke. And then he starts eating it, which, yes, I’m sorry, that’s totally gross. But think of everything that we can learn from the dogs, one with nature. They don’t let a scrap of food go to waste, grass, lick, even vomit, they’re all precious resources in the eyes of man’s best friend.

But like I said, he didn’t throw up the grass. I wondered if I’d accidentally stumbled upon some sort of mutant grass, like maybe this stuff is somehow edible. So I harvested about a bowl’s worth and sautéed it with some organic extra virgin olive oil and some organic shallots and garlic that I got, not at a farmer’s market, unfortunately, but it was at a clearly labeled “organic” section at the supermarket, which is fine, in a pinch I guess, as long as my money is going toward sustainable organic farming, that’s cool.

But yeah, the grass was disgusting. It made the whole house smell like the inside of a lawnmower repair shop, like, imagine the guys at the shop heated up a really heavily garlicky lunch in the microwave, that’s what the house smelled like. And when I ate a couple of bites, well, whatever vomiting inducing powers the grass didn’t have on the dog, they definitely worked on me. And so I cleaned myself up, I made sure to save whatever my body couldn’t digest for my dog, because, yeah, it’s gross, again, I apologize for being so graphic, but he ate it, and so it didn’t go to waste, it was good, for him, my dog’ll eat anything.

And after that I committed to tearing up the backyard, because fuck that, lawns, all of that water and sunlight and more water dripping from my sprinkler-soaked clothes drying and re-drying on the clothesline, what does it all mean? Why am I spending all of these precious, precious natural resources on a bunch of inedible blades of grass? No, I tore that whole backyard up.

And then, I don’t know, it’s really hard to keep the weeds away, you know, it’s like a whole blank canvas, that empty yard, all of that overturned grass. It’s like it just kept growing, even though I pulled it all out, it’s like the roots just re-rooted themselves, and also, all of these other weeds, big clumps of crab grass, dandelions. I’ve seen people eat dandelion greens, but I don’t know man, that’s just way too bitter for my palate. But my clothes are definitely dryer. I just set the sprinklers to only go off in the middle of the night. That way it won’t interfere with the drying. The only thing is, you know, if it starts raining in the middle of the night, I won’t be awake to shut off the sprinkler. And so yeah, that’s a huge waste of resources. But I’m doing my best, right? I can only hope that the whole ecosystem can take care of the rest. Because I’m just one dude, just trying my best, the best I can to make a difference, just me and my giant backyard garden and my clothesline full of t-shirts and underwear.

Does anybody care about Earth Day?

I feel like nobody cares about Earth Day. I went out to get some breakfast this morning, and when the barista gave me my large coffee and my bacon egg and cheese, instead of saying just, “Thanks,” I said, “Thanks. Happy Earth Day.” And he kind or just looked at me for a second, he couldn’t process what I’d just said to him, like it was clear that I was definitely the first person that had wished him a happy Earth Day, that he didn’t know how to respond. So I waited there for an awkward second, and then he took an extra one of those cardboard sleeves and put it around my coffee, even though it already had one. Now it had two.

hpertdy

Was that his way of telling me that he didn’t care about Earth Day? Like, for every happy Earth Day, he’ll go ahead and waste another coffee sleeve? I thought about getting into it with him, starting a whole, “What the hell man?” back and forth, like, “Are you wasting that sleeve just because I said happy Earth Day?” Like, was he just trying to show off how little regard he had for the planet, for waste, for unnecessary trash?

But before I had a chance to open my mouth, I thought, well, maybe he was just trying to be nice, in his own way. Because aren’t those sleeves made out of mostly post-consumer recycled waste? I think they are. At least, the ones at Starbucks are. This was a much smaller coffee shop. It wasn’t even a coffee shop, not really, more like a corner deli, the kind of deli that sells everything, coffee, sandwiches, cigarettes, toilet paper. I guess calling that guy a barista was a little much.

And these sleeves, they weren’t the cool eco-friendly rustic, brown, ragged-edged sleeves you see at most of the hip coffee shops downtown. No, these were glossy, and they advertised Stride chewing gum. So I was wondering if maybe the people at Stride were just giving them away to random bodegas around the city. “Here you go! Free sleeves! Free advertising!” A real win-win.

But, even a sleeve made out of non-recycled pre-consumer material, I guess that’s still much better than the old fashioned Styrofoam coffee cups you used to see everywhere. So maybe this guy, giving me an extra sleeve, that was his own way of expressing solidarity, like, “Yeah man, happy Earth Day to you too. Look how far we’ve come, as a society, as deli workers. You don’t see nearly as many non-biodegradable cups as you used to. All thanks to small changes, like these sleeves. Here, have an extra. Happy Earth Day.”

Of course, he was just kind of staring at me blankly, and so his response was mostly up to my interpretation. Still, in the spirit of Earth Day, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, I’d take his gesture as a friendly one, as an eco-friendly one. I thanked him again and went home.

But sitting there in my kitchen, I couldn’t get the extra sleeve out of my head, regardless of the potential positive intentions. It was just such a waste. I didn’t need it. Here I was, going around to random delis, trying to spread some Earth Day cheer, and I was just contributing to the lack of respect for Mother Earth.

I went outside and I tried to make a tiny little potted plant out of the sleeve. I filled it with dirt and planted an heirloom seed I bought on the Internet. Later that day, it started raining, and the sleeve basically disintegrated after being thoroughly soaked. All of the ink from the advertisement leaked out, and I could hear the planet softly weeping, “Rob! Why would you do this to me? All of those inks, those chemicals, what did I do to deserve any of this? And on Earth Day? Really?”

So yeah, I just, I can’t, every year I try to make Earth Day something special, and every year it’s a total bust.