It's Easy Being Green

It's both a journey and a destination. Can we drive our SUVs or do we have to take the bus? What if the SUV is a hybrid?

How do we know when we get there? If we walk, will it take longer?

Are there potty breaks along the way?

May we carpool? Can we use the carpool lane on the freeway?

Perhaps it's not easy being green after all.  So many unanswered questions.

It's me; green is me. Being me represents Being Green. Sometimes it's not easy being green; I feel like a carbuncle on the porcelain skin of Mother Earth. Do I fit in? I exist only to generate carbon and consume unsustainable resources.

Fight your urge to resist going green. The Earth loves a fighter. What would your Mom say?

Toss an apple core into the woods; you're composting. Drop a banana peel behind your sofa; you're an ecological fanatic, at least until your Mom catches you.

Barbara Streisand is ecologically sensitive, but Johnny Rotten was the first Green punk rocker.

It's an adjective. Are you green? Is it really all that easy getting green?

Have you ever eaten a pine tree? Some parts are edible.

Thus spoke one of the earliest eco-evangalists, Euell Gibbons.

Eschew styrofoam containers. Reach into the drive-through window and grab your burger directly from the grill. Avoid the extra carbs by skipping the bun.

A horse represents the mostest greenest mode of transportation. Unlike a hybrid car, the spent equine doesn't languish in a landfill, seeping acids for hundreds of years. Certainly the car doesn't leave smelly surprises at intersections, but everything is a trade-off, yes?

Shorten your commute; move closer to your employer. Wistfully ponder the days of miners camps owned by coal barons. Take your pay in credits at the company store.

Green roast beef is yucky. Scraping off the green parts won't help. Even the horse wouldn't want to eat it.