Well, now that S. is back from Ireland, the stupid argument as a form of recreation is once again resonant within the cold stone walls of the Bastion on the (Puget) Sound.
We have been following the emerald popularity explosion of environmentalism that appears to be sweeping the nation and much of the planet. Like millions of our species, we are appraising its applications to our lives personally.
S. is already a vegetarian who, at 4’10” and 100 lbs., does not take up much space on the planet. She has, however, an appetite that would do justice to a Dublin soccer team; in total.
Our neighborhood association offers garden plots for the cultivation and harvesting of table vegetables. Now that it is spring, we will probably work our own and sharecrop three others.
We are also dining at home more now because we feel guilty that even before the Economic Downturn; S. put two local restaurants out of business simply by dropping in during All You Can Eat For $7.00 Hour.
S. is not a glutton nor particularly hyper. She is simply multi-dimensional. In the other reality she occupies, she is about the size of a Dublin soccer team, all of them standing on the shoulders of one another.
She walks Godzilla on a leash and swings through the jungle with King Kong. She also swims with the great whales and dances with Greyhound buses. That’s a lot of exercise, which requires a lot of fuel. Our annual grocery bill exceeds the gross national product of several small industrial nations. Combined.
To lighten the load on the power grid, we have decided to open up the fireplace and install a carbon burning stove. We both grew up with these so the selection of one was a matter of quick consensus rather than historical debate.
Now, we are ‘discussing’ the virtues of two fuel sources in terms of their aromatic merits. She favors peat and I am an advocate of Douglas fir.
She grew up cutting her choice out of bogs with her family and that’s an ancestral thing that goes all the way back to when the Gallaghers wore animal skins and painted their faces. She knows people in the peat business and the cost is do-able.
I’m Irish too but the McGuires were Vikings and we had tall evergreen trees where my forebearers came from. The concept of burning squares of sod is not a constituent ingredient of my genetic soup. I am not a big fan of dirt. I joined the Navy because the idea of a foxhole held absolutely no allure. Dirt is for growing things or paving over for shopping malls. It is not for dying in or lighting on fire.
No, I have never smelled peat. I have never even seen it up close. I cannot even remember having been shown pictures of it. I am totally peat challenged. S., on the other hand, has never hugged a Douglas fir (Washington’s unofficial favorite past-time), much less toasted marshmallows over a crackling blaze fueled by this source.
Despite not having experienced each other’s choice, each of us is unimpeachably convinced of the rightness of our own. When one believes as devoutly and as passionately as we do, one need not fear being tempted by the heresy of an open mind. There is simply no room in the universe for two absolute and opposing truths.
It is likely that we will eventually resolve this issue. But we will spend a lot more time discussing it. We will talk to those friends who agree with us; put forth that research which supports our conclusions; probably even commission a couple of ‘independent’ studies whose results can be predicted beforehand.
We will probably form a special interest group to lobby for government subsidies for our choice. And we will certainly seek Constitutional insurance, lest our mettle be tested and our favored fuel source be challenged in the high courts of the land.
By the time it has been taken as far as it possibly can be, we will probably have discovered a more appropriate alternative which combines the virtues of both peat and Douglas fir.
In the meantime, we will dress in layers and wrap ourselves in long cloaks of righteous green, secure and proud that in our finest hour, we yielded to neither God nor good sense.
We have been following the emerald popularity explosion of environmentalism that appears to be sweeping the nation and much of the planet. Like millions of our species, we are appraising its applications to our lives personally.
S. is already a vegetarian who, at 4’10” and 100 lbs., does not take up much space on the planet. She has, however, an appetite that would do justice to a Dublin soccer team; in total.
Our neighborhood association offers garden plots for the cultivation and harvesting of table vegetables. Now that it is spring, we will probably work our own and sharecrop three others.
We are also dining at home more now because we feel guilty that even before the Economic Downturn; S. put two local restaurants out of business simply by dropping in during All You Can Eat For $7.00 Hour.
S. is not a glutton nor particularly hyper. She is simply multi-dimensional. In the other reality she occupies, she is about the size of a Dublin soccer team, all of them standing on the shoulders of one another.
She walks Godzilla on a leash and swings through the jungle with King Kong. She also swims with the great whales and dances with Greyhound buses. That’s a lot of exercise, which requires a lot of fuel. Our annual grocery bill exceeds the gross national product of several small industrial nations. Combined.
To lighten the load on the power grid, we have decided to open up the fireplace and install a carbon burning stove. We both grew up with these so the selection of one was a matter of quick consensus rather than historical debate.
Now, we are ‘discussing’ the virtues of two fuel sources in terms of their aromatic merits. She favors peat and I am an advocate of Douglas fir.
She grew up cutting her choice out of bogs with her family and that’s an ancestral thing that goes all the way back to when the Gallaghers wore animal skins and painted their faces. She knows people in the peat business and the cost is do-able.
I’m Irish too but the McGuires were Vikings and we had tall evergreen trees where my forebearers came from. The concept of burning squares of sod is not a constituent ingredient of my genetic soup. I am not a big fan of dirt. I joined the Navy because the idea of a foxhole held absolutely no allure. Dirt is for growing things or paving over for shopping malls. It is not for dying in or lighting on fire.
No, I have never smelled peat. I have never even seen it up close. I cannot even remember having been shown pictures of it. I am totally peat challenged. S., on the other hand, has never hugged a Douglas fir (Washington’s unofficial favorite past-time), much less toasted marshmallows over a crackling blaze fueled by this source.
Despite not having experienced each other’s choice, each of us is unimpeachably convinced of the rightness of our own. When one believes as devoutly and as passionately as we do, one need not fear being tempted by the heresy of an open mind. There is simply no room in the universe for two absolute and opposing truths.
It is likely that we will eventually resolve this issue. But we will spend a lot more time discussing it. We will talk to those friends who agree with us; put forth that research which supports our conclusions; probably even commission a couple of ‘independent’ studies whose results can be predicted beforehand.
We will probably form a special interest group to lobby for government subsidies for our choice. And we will certainly seek Constitutional insurance, lest our mettle be tested and our favored fuel source be challenged in the high courts of the land.
By the time it has been taken as far as it possibly can be, we will probably have discovered a more appropriate alternative which combines the virtues of both peat and Douglas fir.
In the meantime, we will dress in layers and wrap ourselves in long cloaks of righteous green, secure and proud that in our finest hour, we yielded to neither God nor good sense.
1 comment:
Hahaha! Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you, Rusty!
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