I’m about to finish a like-new Schwinn (Giant) Sprint from the mid-1980’s, but getting side-tracked. I’m trying to square the UN Report with how I’m going to proceed as a person, a dad and husband, and as a producer of product.
I don’t see a solution that will work. As a dad in his 40’s, I’m supposed to be stowing away money for the future. I’m doing that. Fine. But it’s in the stock market, which is supposed to grow. Great. Grow how? Until when? Ad infinitum? At what cost?
We have three sons, so I can’t stand on a soap box of population control by asking people to have only one kid or something like that. (Only children [me] are self-centered assholes.) We’re not having more. That’s for sure.
All I know for sure is that I’m not supposed to be in an office job, helping to propel America’s capital growth program forward. They’ll be finding microplastics on the moon in a few years. Soon after, the wales and corals will all be dead and the Space Penis from Star Trek IV, the Voyage Home (which, by the way, was a Hollywood call to environmental action from way back in 1986) destroys us with desperate and unanswered whale calls, violent storms, and general vaporization.
I’ll just be here, fixing old bikes, traveling as little as possible, giving our yard back to nature, keeping the lights off when I can, and wearing the same clothes 2 or 3 days in a row.