How Dare You?

That question, asked by some wispy teenager, barely past the training bra stage, sounded so sincere, so justified, so self-righteous. Oh me, oh my. “Why, bless her lil heart.” She wants to stop climate change. Well shuga, I’ll tell ya. Stop readin’ Facebook and read the Good Book. Put down the textphone and pickup the textbook.

How’s that for a start, pumpkin? Turn off the computer, air conditioner and refrigerator.

All them things which use electricity, which were produced by the evil energy producers, which make life so much better. Use kerosene lamps, as did my family for the first fifteen years of my life. Capture rain, like we did.

Put a privy in the backyard, honeybun. Stop ridin’ in cars and get a horse. Better yet, use shank’s mare.

Go vegetarian, sweetie. Don’t eat anymore juicy burgers. Less burgers equals less cows, which equals less flatulence, which is to be replaced by self-righteous speech. No more buffalo wings, too many buffalo would have to be killed to make them wings.

Last, if you really want to learn how to conserve, so as to preserve the planet; the people in Venezuela or North Korea can show you so many neat tricks; especially conserving toilet paper.

When you’ve done that, then maybe you will be justified in asking that question. Until then, you are just talking through one of your old, used training bras.

Joseph Conrad

New Iberia