That’s the best part - the tree didn’t become rubbish.
But I was still heartbroken when I realized the huge oak in front of the house was dead beyond repair - so much so that I shot photos and video of it being taken down. Like an obsessive fan watching the final swan song of a storied opera diva, I snapped probably 300 pictures of the thing singing its way down.
As if losing the tree wasn’t enough, a gaggle of honeybees had set up shop within the dead tree itself - causing the initial tear-down crew to retreat because two of the guys were allergic to bee stings (as in stretcher-and-hospital allergic). ((insert tough-guy joke here))
I immediately phoned the city and promptly received a call back from Ken Gillette, from Atlanta’s Office of Parks, who shared my worry about killing the bees. “I trap and release wasps in my own home,” he told me wistfully.
In the midst of the bee conundrum I was reminded of the Buddhist principals of not being attached to materials objects, which is a principle I think is healthy - although I tweak it a bit to add reverence to everyday things we interact with. This tree fits (fit, past tense) that bill perfectly, and she will be missed.
The urgency of the removal meant there wasn’t time to call a bee specialist because the tree was a hazard to the neighborhood. Ken had a legal obligation to remove the tree. I snapped neighbor Jim inspecting the remnants of the hive. Sad, particularly with the mysterious problem we still have with this particular species.
So out it, and they, came. But not before I captured the whole thing, from beginning to end, with many types of cameras.
As the sawdust filled my nostrils my heart sank. Another tree will rise in its place, but still - the end of an era.
(CHARLOTTESVILLE :: 11 August 2008) The color may have changed quite dramatically since my original post on the subject, but the crisis of conscience remains the same. So goes my driving life with the as-yet-unnamed, gently used 2005 BMW X3 - a capable if bland SUV that gets me to my point B pretty nicely, albeit a bit more wasteful on gas than I'd like.
But then, on a steamy summer day in Atlanta when I was off to the recycling center at Dekalb Farmer's Market, I realized the true spirit of being "green" (vs. baby-spew orange) is not defined by MPG alone. It's measured in how and what you do with your footprint.
I live within a half-mile of where I work. I walk there and other places. I combine errands to reduce emissions. I walk to my workouts. I try and drive evenly so as to not waste gas (that last one being extremely difficult in the third-world war zone driving scene that is Atlanta). I carpool. I have stopped driving to the airport altogether.
There's something else: I miss my stick shift. Big time. But the trade-off there, if there could be one, is that I know Gracie's new owner - and he's taking good care of her down in Savannah. He's promised me pictures of her, and when he sends them, I'll do a post about it. It's a cool story.
I knew it was just a matter of time before someone snatched up Gracie from the dealership. Back to being green. I continue to clamor for an SUV in the nice-ish luxury category that has not just low emissions - try ZERO. I anticipate that day because I'll be first in line. We need that. To be kind to the planet, to be off our addition to oil (both foreign and domestic) and to be the fabulous country we used to be. Maybe one of those snazzy new diesel engines would do the trick, too. I'm considering a 2009 X3 European delivery with a standard transmission - juice boxes be damned.
So, while you're considering the hybrid "badge of honor," or if you think being green is some sort of status symbol you wear for showmanship, think again. It's in the total picture of the person that really and truly makes a tree hugger.
Alas, I was counting on Basil as my "in" for Halloween, but it wasn't mean to be - at least not in this lifetime. He's now making another driver in metro Atlanta think hard about mileage... and about color.
Today, Bush is heckling Congress that if they don't act before recess, they've got the blood of $4 per gallon gas on their hands without domestic drilling. Without a formal plan for alternative energy, he's just trying to make his fat-cat buddies even fatter than they were before.
Bush is incompetent. He's an elitist scumbag who thinks he's God's gift (literally, figuratively...), which, as evidenced by the below video, is definitely not true.
It's sad that impeachment is summarily off the table basically because we're so close to him leaving. Just on energy policy alone, his grade is "F".
I bought a new car. I got a great deal on it. Since it was a loaner that had just come off its "temp" status, I snagged it for considerably less than list.
He's an SUV, and he gets an uber-crappy 14 miles to the gallon in the city. His name is Basil, named after the big boss in the Austin Powers movies. (For those of you playing at home, yes, he puts the "Grrrr" in swinger.) But for someone concerned about our dependency on foreign oil and saving the planet, those gas numbers royally suck. The car, however, doesn't - it's a Land Rover LR2, funky in its baby-spew orange and comfortable over Atlanta's obnoxious, lunar-surface city streets.
Still, my conscience is heavy. It's a second car to help me schlep a little easier, and navigate without bottoming out every five seconds on a shitty street like Juniper. (Chuck Benny is using Gracie for the time being.)
But no matter how elegant and agile, no matter how joyous Basil makes the jaunt from point A to B, I wish we had more choices in the luxury, small-scale SUV category that would be easier on the environment.
Until that time, and in light of this decision, I've shifted some habits that might help compensate. To wit:
-- Use Basil for recycling everything under the sun, including cardboard, glass, plastic and other household goods that the city ignores. -- Instead of driving to my workout sessions with Eric on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I walk to his place and work out there. -- Combine errands in a single outing and make sure to go easy on acceleration. -- Walk to the office. -- Do not involve myself in traffic. -- Walk more in midtown to restaurants and shops, where possible (already doing that).
I'm so jazzed by the idea of using a new diesel engine with fry oil that I believe "Basil" will be a temporary indulgence. It'll be fun while it lasts.
In the meantime, Atlanta roads look and feel a lot less like the moon. - WP