Drilling Down Part IV

Yesterday I started keeping an account of all the petroleum-based materials I interact with. The only reason I did not add gasoline and all the plastic hooha’s in my auto is because San Francisco is blessed with a good public transportation system and I didn’t need to get in my car to get where I needed to go. Here’s the list from one Saturday:

Orange Crate & Barrel bag; Uni-ball pen; notebook cover; Nikes; grocery store vegetable bags; the orange and gray seats on the Muni train; [the electricity to run the Muni comes from coal, natural gas, and a miniscule amount of renewables]; Muni flooring; the retractable curtain between Muni cars; the pavement on my street; Patagonia Polar fleece jacket; Blackberry; Sony television; Bose radio; MasterCard; Canon camera; salt and pepper shaker; landline telephone; three-ring binder; Rolodex; stapler; Brother fax machine; Apple MacBook Pro; mixing bowl; serving spoon; watering can and hose; extension cord; clothes hamper; waste basket; tooth brush; Invisaline braces.

I’m sure there was much more I missed. The list began when I tried to situate myself in the Gulf of Mexico oil spill. What moral responsibility do I have for this cataclysm? Clearly, I’m implicated. Distressing. But equally so was the NPR story this morning on how Americans can detach completely their gas guzzling ways from the mess in the Gulf. The reporter asked: "Do you feel any connection or responsibility as you gas up your car for this horrible thing that you're watching on the news?" The unanimous answer? "No."

Come on. We're all polluters. The amazing thing is that we can't seem to bring ourselves to acknowledge this, but instead remain steadfast in our rage and blame aimed at BP and the feds. Forget sustainability. What ever happened to that conservative cornerstone of personal responsibility?