A car full of barking dogs

I will return to the story about Charlton tomorrow. Today I want to tell you about the car full of barking dogs.

Avie and I took Pork Chop* for a walk to the park where we planted a tree last year for Earth Day. We wanted to visit the tree, see how it was doing, and get a little fresh air.

It was about 7pm and despite the sunshine and nearly 60F weather we are having, the streets were quiet. A few cars were out, but even the main four-lane highway that runs straight through downtown was empty enough for a long-boarder to sail past us as we waited for the walk signal. He looked back once or twice, slightly nervous, but no one pressed him.

We were playing the “count the cats game” and Avie had spotted one that I missed. She drew my attention to it, “by the white truck, camouflaged.” I looked over at the truck but all I could see was a PT Cruiser, the windows steamed up. As we got closer, I saw the cat, just beyond the minivan.

And then the barking erupted. The PT Cruiser was full of dogs, all of them trying to bark at me, Avie, and Porks. It seemed like there were 20 dogs in there but there were probably four or five. What made the car seem fuller is that every dog was fighting, biting, and jumping on the other dogs in order to win the right to be the main dog that got to bark at us.

The dogs were biting each other in the face, one would pull another down, claim the throne – feet propped up on the driver’s side window ledge – and then start barking furiously at the window.

Ironically, the more they barked, the less they could see. Every time one won the throne, he would bark until they fogged up the window to the point where they surely could only make out our color and shape.

As we passed the car, I turned back and they were up on the front window, fighting, barking, fogging.

We got to our trees: two blue spruces. Both seem to be well established and healthy. It will be what, another 100 years before they are big enough to be impressive. But for now, here they are, a reminder of what we can do.

We headed back past the dogs in the car, this time closer. I wanted to get a video of this crazy scene but as we approached I noticed that two people were gardening near the car. The dogs were fighting over their small bits of real estate but the people were either pretending not to notice or they were inured to this mess.

Avie and I were only a few blocks from home when we passed a house with a large, white satellite dish in the front yard. “Ha! I wonder why they still have that thing out front?” I said out loud.

C-Band Satellite dishes were sort of popular in the 80s because if you had the money to buy one (they were $5000-$10000) you could pick up a ton of channels for free. My friend had satellite TV and could get HBO and all of the other cable channels for “free”. Well, they were free until HBO started encrypting their feed in 1986. It took a few years for the others to follow suit but it wasn’t long before almost everything was encrypted and people had to dismantle their BUDs (Big Ugly Dish).

Later that night, we watched Avengers Endgame. We have watched all of the Avengers series in order, just to get to this point. As Avie was watching the opening scenes of Endgame she wondered “what if Thanos isn’t the bad guy? There are too many people. We are destroying the planet. Wouldn’t it be better if half the people just disappeared?”

I can’t disagree with her entirely. There are too many people. We are destroying the planet. And in the darkest moments I wonder if the planet would be better off if everyone who was so concerned about the planet – especially those of us in the West who gobble up the most resources – committed mass suicide.

Of course, that’s not an option. The only answer is for us as humans to join forces and find more sustainable methods. That’s my Avengers answer: humans, assemble!

Though, if I’m honest, that feels even less plausible. From what I’ve read, we are past the tipping point. Even if we stopped consuming the planet at our current rate we have done so much damage that we are melting the permafrost and that’s releasing methane and CO2 at unprecedented and previously unpredicted levels. I don’t think we shouldn’t try to do anything but it feels like as a species we are like an alcoholic with cirrhosis faced with the choice of either quitting drink and living 5 years or just saying “fuck it” and living in absolute misery for 6 months, until our liver explodes and we die of sepsis.

I admit that this week has felt like a massive relief. I love that there are few cars on the roads when I walk the dog and I look forward to people being told to quarantine in place so that there are even fewer people out. I would also like to see some rationing. Because I think there are a lot of people buying things, hoarding things, that they either don’t need or which they are going to throw away. This is especially true of the fresh veggies. I know Americans aren’t eating that damn many parsnips because for the last 50 years this country has thrown away more produce than it’s eaten. Also, if we were eating all of that fresh produce all this time we wouldn’t be so damn unhealthy. Though the run on fresh produce could explain the odd hoarding of Toilet Paper: Americans are staying home and have decided that they finally need to get enough fiber to take a giant shit. If that’s the case, I suggest drinking plenty of water, noobs, because you don’t want that first one to be a torpedo.

I wonder what’s going to happen over the next two years or so. How will the world change? Will we build less, buy less, use less? How many of us will even want to go back to work? Especially now that we know our jobs are pretty far down the list in terms of what’s essential.

But what about all of the people who can’t work? The millionaire footballers will be fine, for the most part, and the billionaire owners will probably find a way to make a profit off all this. But there are a lot of players who aren’t rich, who don’t have jobs that pay much more than what a secretary or bartender makes. What about them and all of the other people in all of the other non-essential industries? Do we just all slowly go back to normal?

I’m usually good at predicting the future but this is so unprecedented that I don’t know what’s going to happen in five months, one year, two years. So for now, I’m just trying to sit back and let everyone take a breath. We have all been burning so hard for so long that the earth needs a break, we need a break.

My plan is to keep doing what I’ve been doing: eat healthy, read, take walks. I plan to keep planting trees, keep cleaning up my neighborhood, and I plan to keep trying to date, even if that means meeting women online and having online dates. If I think about the changes I’ve made to my diet and life, I guess I approach challenges as an adventure.

However, when I’m not thinking positively or planning for the future, I admit that my worst fears are that we, humans, just end up like four yapping dogs trapped in a PT Cruiser.

Qq

*Her full name is The Pork Chop Express as in “You just listen to the old Pork Chop Express here now and take his advice on a dark and stormy night when the lightning’s crashin’ and the thunder’s rollin’ and the rain’s coming down in sheets thick as lead. Just remember what old Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big old storm right square in the eye and he says, Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.”