Green Days Ahead!

I Got My Carbon Credit Card
by Mark Harris, NationalPoliticalDigest.com

Like many people, when checking my mail the other day, I received
mostly bills, one check and a couple of pre-approved credit card offers.
Most intriguing was the card with dancing penguins on the front. The
accompanying letter started, "Dear Mark. You can help save the world!...
Help fight global warming!...Sincerely, Al Gorebal, Head Snapdragon of the International Polar Bear Society." Hey, it looked so impressive with
the embossed seal.

That very afternoon, I called the 1-800 number as directed. "CCC
Enterprises, May I help you?"
"I hope so. What does CCC stand for, and, by the way, do you mind
telling me where you are?"
Her voice was so sweet and the accent was unusual. For some reason I
always need to know where they originate.
"Yes, certainly, sir. I'm in the Philippines and CCC stands for
Carbon Credit Card."
"Well, I think I'd like to activate my card, but I'd like to know
how it works."
"It's really simple, sir. When you make purchases with the your CCC,
we plant trees. Trees, trees, trees all over the world!" Her enthusiasm
started my mind jumping! Saving the world!
"That sounds great! Have you activated many cards?" I wanted to be part
of something really big!
"Well, actually, you'll be my second one, but, I'm new! Earlier, there was a Mr. Nader. Oh, I wasn’t supposed to mention….”
"That's okay. I won't say anything. Go ahead and sign me up. By the
way, is this the only thing you do for the company?"
"Oh, no sir. After I finish my shift here, I'm supposed to go out to
the beach and plant two palm trees for every new card I set up. A short
pause, then "Okay, you're all ready to go!"
"Alright. Thanks very much!", I deliberately avoided trying to do any
multiplication in my head. She seemed so excited.
"Think green!",she chimed.

The weatherman had been reporting unusually cold temperatures, but this
morning, it seemed a little warmer as the sun started to rise. The heat
on my face only added to my enthusiasm. I had already planned a day of
spending with my new "Carbon Credit Card". I was "thinking green!"
The first stop on my itinerary was to fill up my fuel tank, so I pulled
in at my favorite service station. I approached the pump. I had gotten
used to paying there to avoid the walk inside. To my surprise, when I
inserted my "Carbon Credit Card" in the slot, a white receipt came out,
but no fuel! It read, "Sorry. Your card will not work for this brand.
You must go to 2929 S. Galaxy Drive for fuel." Undeterred, I drove to
the prescribed address. It wasn't very far and, anyway, I was "thinking
green!"

I pulled into the driveway. The overhead sign read "Hugo's Service
Station. We Sell Heave-A-Hol. We Take Carbon Credit Cards". Jackpot!
They take my card. I wasn't familiar with the brand, though, so I
went to the office to get some info.

"Sir can you tell me something about this Heave-A-Hol fuel?"
"Oh, si, sir." He was latino but spoke pretty good English.
"Originally, the government wanted everyone to use gas-a-hol as the answer to the energy crisis. It turned out to be too expensive. Corn prices went up! That caused even tortillas to go up to $3.00 each! It wasn't as efficient as regular fuel, so they came up with Heave-A-Hol."
"I see, but what is it made from?"
"Every morning thousands of the unemployed and homeless, an army of
them, go around to all the skid rows across the country! The scrape up all the puke left on the sidewalks by the drunks. That's all transported
to a refinery up around Martha's Vineyard. I think some senator leases the land to them. But anyway, they mix it with horse and cow manure.
They refine it and that's how we get Heave-A-Hol!"

I left as soon as I filled up. The visit to the station was very
disconcerting to me. Talk about the ultimate in recycling. Anyway, I needed some cash so I headed toward my usual ATM. I almost didn't make it, though. The engine in my car had moaned and wrenched all the way there. I swear there were some faint mooing and whinnying sounds coming from the rear. I was beginning to feel "green".

Finally, I made it to the drive-thru at the bank. No one in line;
things were looking up. I forced my card into the machine. "What!" I'm sure I startled the lady in the car behind me. The card had climbed back out of the slot, crinkled almost beyond recognition. Out came another
unfriendly looking white slip. "Sorry. The magnetic strip on your card has be deactivated. CCC feared it might effect the polarity of the planet. I limped home. My poor Honda appeared to be on the throws of death. I raced into the house; furious.

"Hello!", I yelled when I finally got an answer. "I demand an explan.!”, and then that same sweet voice.
"CCC Enterprises. May I help you?"

I proceeded to blurt out what I endured, stuttering I'm sure. But I
did manage to ask for her supervisor. Her baby smooth voice had softened
me somewhat. Why rant at her? It probably wasn't her fault. Let me
rant at her boss!

"May I help you?" Another sweet voice; seemed identical. I began
explaining the trials I had gone through; I'm sure in a low rage. "Sir.
What you need is our PCCC."
"PCCC! What in the world is that?" I was beside myself.
That is our "Premier Carbon Credit Card". The CCC is made of switch
grass and alfalfa. Doesn't hold up well in those machines. Also,
we've deactivated the magnetic strip on them. I can get you a PCCC almost immediately." She was so matter-of-fact that it disarmed me. "We're all under the umbrella of the United Nations. I can connect you with them."
"United Nations!", I was incredulous. "I don't know if I can get
credit with the U.N. Is it very tough?"
"Oh, no sir. It won't be any problem at all. It gets handled through
the same department that used to handle the ˜Oil For Food Program.
There offices are in Ghana. I'll connect you. Please hold."
"Well, okay, if you think it will work." The telephone rang, changed
tones, rang some more, then finally I got an answer.

"Hello. Premier Carbon Credit Card. May I help you?" The voice sounded
very familiar. I had heard it many times, but could't quite put a name to it.
"Yes. My name is Mark Harris. To whom am I speaking?"
"Kofi Annan."
I hung up. I knew I was turning "green".

Relaxation beckoned me. The day had brought exasperation, frustration
and unusual emotions. The coffee tasted good as I flipped through the
"Times". A particular article had grabbed my attention. It was about a
couple who had foregone the use of toilet paper. I assumed it was to help lower the use of trees. The lid clanging down on my mailbox drew me
from my reading.

"Same old stuff", I murmured as I sifted through the stack of letters.
Then, I noticed a parcel at the foot of the door. It was from a friend.
I love packages, so I feverishly unwrapped it.
"Dear Mark", the note started, "You had mentioned you were going green.
Thought this might help. Let me know how it turns out. Ralph."

The box inside was labeled, "Tranquilo... Invisible Toilet Paper".
Huh? My mind raced back to the article I had just been reading in the
newspaper. I turned the end of the dispenser box to me. It read:
Instructions For Use...Start using less and less of your regular
toilet paper; more and more of Tranquilo. As time goes by you'll reach a
point where you realize what "going green" really means to you.

My door slammed behind me.

He does have a unique look going for him, doesn't he ? ;-)

I emailed this out to all of my lib friends (yes, it's true), and this has become the ultimate "bridge" topic.  They're starting to speculate about the possibility of other issues that the Hollywood left hasn't bothered to think too hard about.

-PJ