First Junk-Food-On-A-Plate Experience

Well, it was bound to happen sometime. After almost a week of carrying around our plates, we ended up having to go to the mall to do a little (energy star) appliance shopping. And that required a fast food fuel up. So off we went to our favorite fast food Thai restaurant in the food court (yeah, I know there's all sorts of issues concerning fast food. And malls. And food courts. One step at a time...).

Slightly nervous, we pulled our blue, ceramic-tin plates out of our bags. Then clutching our plates to our chests as if to ward off what we knew would be a barrage of strange looks and "look-ma-weirdos" smiles, we joined the line. Cin gave the lady our order. Then we thrust our plates over the counter toward her and said in a rush, "can you put our order on these plates instead of your plastic ones?"

The lady behind the counter was very kind. She only stared at us for a little while. Then, she smiled, took the plates, and asked, "would you like that to go?" I really think she was hoping we would say yes. Meanwhile, the guy to our right who was waiting for his food looked long and hard at our two metal plates laying on the counter, then turned and looked at us. I'm not sure what he was thinking, but he looked away when I smiled at him. The lady behind us in the line muttered something to her boyfriend. And as the plates were handed down the steam line to await their load of hot Pad Thai, each person who handled them did a double take, then looked at us and the cashier.

There was an extra bit of confusion with the chef, who expected to see either the standard white styrofoam plate, or the take-out box. However, after a bit of rapid-fire Thai, he shrugged, flipped our meals out of his frying pan onto his big ladle, and plopped them down on our metal plates. Success! We paid for our meal and scurried away to a table, elated in our ability to get garbage-free fast food. Or at least nearly - we still had a paper napkin and two sets of chop sticks. Still, better than having a whole lot of plastic.

As I sat and chop sticked (chop stuck?) mouthfuls of spicy, hot Pad Thai (with tofu) I thought of some good things/bad things of our garbage reduction experience. Bad things are:

1) We had to wash these plates somewhere before we could put them back in our bags. We were unsure if we would get in trouble using the bathroom sinks. Then in a flash of inspiration, Cin solved the washing problem. She reached into her home-made messenger bag and pulled out her re-usable lunch bag. Then she stuffed both our dirty plates in - we'll wash them at home when we do our regular dishes. Saves on water.
2) The plates were hot. I mean "I'll sue you for burning my hand, you dirty granola crunchers" hot. We would have to be extra careful to warn any servers that putting hot food onto the plates makes them heat up quickly. Or else find a way to insulate the bottoms.
3) We still had some garbage. Time to break out the ol' camping KFS and a cloth napkin to carry around.

Good things are:

1) We made people think - even if they thought we were weird. They still were exposed to an alternative to junk food garbage - they learned there are ways to live without garbage. And education is the only true weapon we have.
2) We brought a smile to the faces of the restauranteers. Our little escapade probably was the only bit of change in an otherwise normal, hum drum mall food court routine.
3) No toxic chemicals!

All in all, a positive experience. When we move into our new little home, I'm sure all the local fast food restaurants will get very used to us clanking our metal plates down on the counter and saying, "fill 'er up!"

Greening your junk food binge

Despite the fact that we're trying to eat within 100-miles, both Cin and I are pretty busy with work and all the other things that take up a modern life. So there occasionally comes a time when you want somebody else to do the cooking. Or you just want a veggie burger and fries fix (mmm...fries). We never claimed we were perfect... Yet every time we go to our favorite local veggie fast-food restaurant we end up with a pile of plastic and foam garbage. It bugs us to have to accept our food in these disposable containers, both for our health (foam and plastic both leach toxic chemicals into your food), and also because there's no way to recycle these pestilential petroleum products.

Well, we've come up with a solution (certainly not new - we claim no credit) that hopefully won't cause too much angst for the shop-owner. We'll start carrying our own plates and cutlery - made of metal. We have ceramic coated tin plates we bought second-hand from a thrift store, and we both have a KFS set for camping. So the next time we give in to the urge for fast-food we'll slap our re-usable, non-toxic, recycled plates on the counter and say, "fill 'er up!"

[Incidentally, if you want to read on what comes out of plastic, including those ever-popular lexan water bottles, go here. Also, I am in no way affiliated with the owners of that site.]

The 100-Mile vs Vegetarian Diets

Cin and I went grocery shopping two days back. We grabbed our canvas, reusable bags and drove our car-share car down to our local MegaMart that stocks everything from Ecuadorian Coffee to Yukon Salmon-in-a-can. As we wandered and sorted through our usual load of groceries (some of it local), we chatted about the 100 Mile Diet phenomenon described here. Looking in our shopping cart we find rice "packaged in Toronto" but likely grown in Asia somewhere, Tofu and Veggie Ham all the way from Vancouver BC (and again made from soy beans probably grown elsewhere), soy milk (same thing) and peanut butter. While all of our items were as green as we could get them (low packaging, vegetarian, etc.) they all required huge amounts of petrochemicals in the form of transportation and storage to get them to the end of our fork. What good is eating low-packaged items when the fuel required to get them to us uses far more petrochemicals then does the packaging of a local product? We needed to go greener. And the 100 Mile Diet may just do that. We set each other the challenge to move to a 100-Mile diet over the next year. Then, giddy with the heady excitement of a new challenge, we wandered around the store looking for our local fair.

And we encountered a huge problem. First, 100-Miles pretty much covers the extent of the map above. There are no soybeans (to my knowledge), nuts, or wheat grown in that radius. Being vegetarian, what will we do for protein? Do we go back to eating locally raised, ethically farmed meat? Despite the fact that its local, ethical and organic, it still takes more water and feed to raise a cow then it does to feed a human - the original reason we went vegetarian in the first place. Second, it's very difficult to tell what items in our local MegaMart are actually from within 100 miles. The packaging will label "Product of Canada", or "Packaged for XYZ Company of Toronto" or better, "Product of Ontario", but there's still no guarantee that the item wasn't grown somewhere else and shipped to a processing plant in Ontario.

In fact, we were unable to find a single protein source that wasn't shipped in from SOMEWHERE. Eventually we gave up. And feeling like the runner who challenges themselves to run a marathon, then hops in a cab right at the start to get to the finish line, we buggied our non-local, vegetarian food to the check-out line, paid for it, and scurried out to our car-share car. There we sat, staring out the windshield trying to figure out how we can get through this challenge - how to eat local AND vegetarian. This one will be tough. While I could probably go back to eating locally raised meat, I don't think Cin would be comfortable with that.

We decide that we'll have to take this challenge in little steps. We'll purchase local when we can, and either give up a few things if we have to. Or for the essentials, accept the petrochemicals associated with their production and transportation, and try not to feel too guilty as we chow down.

No Impact Man

Here's a guy who appears to be attempting to do the same thing in New York that we're doing in Toronto. No Impact Man. Some good reading there.

Some good things, some bad things...

Well, we've toured our new neighbourhood (by TTC-ing it there, then walking around on foot). It's official - within 5 city blocks we have every kind of store we would ever need. There's a pet food store, a "grass roots" store where we can refill our cleaning solution bottles (YAY!), a "bulk food" store that sells some bulk items manufactured in Durham region (no joy yet on a source of locally grown flour), and a wine and beer making store for locally made wobbly pops. What's more, our new home has both a pear tree and a plum tree (plum wine), and a cold room in the basement - seems a perfect match.

However, we've run into three possible problems:

1. Our house needs some work, especially the bathroom and basement floor. Perhaps we can find a source of reclaimed tiles and flooring or something.
2. The only secure spot for my bike, (commuting vehicle) is inside the basement door. The only way to get it around to the basement door is through the neighbour's driveway. The previous owner says the neighbour is nice. Maybe they won't mind me coming through twice a day...
3. We need new appliances. Our current fridge and stove, while still perfectly functional, simply will not fit into the house's entry ways - even with the doors taken off. So Cindy and I have been scouring the Interweb looking for the most efficient of each of these items that will fit. We've found some likely candidates, but now we need to decide what is more practical from an ecological impact perspective. We could buy used items which would likely be less efficient (both of the new appliances are energy star compliant") but wouldn't result in the purchasing of yet another appliance (recycling old items is our mantra). Or, the energy savings associated with running energy star appliances would offset the manufacturing and transportation costs of new items. We still haven't wrestled this one to the ground.

And we often run into the same dilemma with other items. Is an item that is local and less "earth-friendly" better than something that has come from abroad? We're still undecided about this, and until we make a decision, we'll simply have to take things on a case-by-case basis.

In the meantime, we're going to have to find a way to keep our locally grown produce fresh.

No such thing as the labour saving device...

Every time I see this aspect of human nature, I find it fascinating. As a race, we spend billions of dollars and countless units of energy seeking ways to save labour. We then spend an almost equivalent amount of money and energy seeking ways to make our bodies move. Here is a case in point - the Escalator. Here people stand single file while the machine lifts them from one floor to the other, using energy, petroleum products, and natural resources to keep it running smoothly, 18 hours per day , every day of the year. While right next to them is a perfectly good floor-climbing device that runs on clean, natural, renewable energy, is low maintenance, and wide enough so four can climb at the same time.

Now, don't get me wrong. I can see why escalators and elevators are a good, and much needed, invention. There are those individuals who, either due to disability, illness, or age, would view the rising stack of stairs as nearly impossible to negotiate, thus limiting what I feel is that most important aspect of human behaviour - free will. Yet I stood and watched the rising column of humanity for a full three minutes, and during that time saw very few people who had a legitimate reason to use the escalator. Most riders were relatively young and able bodied. Further, the escalator didn't get these people to the upper floor faster, moving little quicker than a natural walking pace. So you can't necessarily state that such labour saving devices also save time.

What, therefore, is the source of this behaviour? Most of these people wandered onto this conveyance device out of habit, or simply by following the people in front of them, or because they were distracted with incoming and outgoing text messages (at this subway stop in Toronto, this is the point that most people's phones pick up service again). I'd be willing to wager that many of these people have a gym membership where they spend twenty minutes, three times per week going nowhere on a tread mill, stationary bicycle or irony of ironies, a stair climber. So you can't say that these people are lazy - they'll be putting in the required amount of effort to climb those stairs at a later date. Also, if questioned, I would bet most people would admit to knowing a thing or two about climate change and the need to conserve energy and resources. Several would even put two and two together and realize that these labour saving devices of ours are wasting energy needlessly, taking away from our diminishing natural resources, and can cause health problems with a whole host of associated costs.

I can conclude two things from this behaviour. First, scenes such as this are a microcosm of humanity's perception of climate change as a whole. I once heard that our collective response to climate change was "the ultimate procrastination." Things aren't dire yet, and humans only change cultural behaviour when something really hurts. Second, this escalator, and other labour saving devices, are building an "effort debt" - in energy consumption, resource consumption, and health - that we'll need to pay back as a species sooner or later.

So, if you can, take the stairs now to save the planet.

Living Small in the Big Smoke

As a first step in our attempt to live small and ethical, we've become homeowners! My wife and I bought a small house in Toronto with huge potential. There's a lot of space in our new-to-us, little, semi-detached bungalow. It's the ideal location for our attempt at a cleaner, more ethical, life. Green features include:

1. A stone's throw from a subway stop - we get around by Rocket!
2. Right off the Danforth for shopping - no car required
3. No parking spot - good thing we don't own a car.
4. Small home with radiant heat - more efficient than electric and forced air (especially if we can retrofit an on-demand water heater).
5. Large yard with FOUR MATURE FRUIT TREES - can you say homemade jam and jelly? Plus garden space.
6. No contribution to urban sprawl

There are a few things we could do to improve it, such as install an alternative power source, or put in a solar hot water heating system. I'm not sure if we'll be able to because there's a really tall house to the South of us, so they may be blocking our sun. Still, it's a big improvement from the 1950's era, poorly insulated, drafty, inefficiently heated rental property we're in now.

This Good Life.

When you have a passion for the environment, you spend a lot of time reading newspapers and website stories on environmental issues. As you dig deeper into things, you begin to understand the inter-connectedness of the world around you. How fossil fuel addiction has generated drought in Africa. How coffee-fueled poverty has leveled rain forests. How the pill giving us the sexual revolution has possibly led to a cancer revolution. And as your awareness grows, so to does a nagging sense of disquiet. Like the hair on the back of your neck standing up just before a really strong summer thunder storm. Like that storm, the disquiet gently grows out of a whispered gust that naggingly tugs at the edge of your attention. A gust that you fuel with more information, more knowledge. A gust that gains power as you delve into the hot topics in the green movement, growing in power and fury until finally you feel like you're containing a Katrina-sized hurricane of mixed frustration, fear, horror and despair over the state the world is in. All that pent-up emotion, that fear, forces you to DO SOMETHING, to shout out, to pick up garbage and carry it home, to glare with undisguised fury at any SUV that passes by, and to generally be an annoying, preachy, long-haired, granola-crunching, doom-proselytizing, tree-hugger.

I blame my parents. And my wife. My mother and father started me on this road by inculcating a reverence for the outdoors at a very young age. They provided the nagging disquiet. And my wife, well...

When I met my wife, she was the one that first nudged my nagging disquiet inland, toward warmer topics. She saw in me the same forces that were gathering in her. As we first dated, then got married, our two growing storms (albeit hers a much more advanced version than mine) merged and began to feed off each other. Now we push each other to new levels of eco-fury, swapping energy back and forth so that the two of us become almost rabid in our green frenzy. We have become eco-guerillas, rushing out of the cover of nearby shrubbery to frantically toss the litter of stunned picnickers into recycling bins before
shouting "Overthrow the Disposable Regime" and dissapearing back from whence we came.

We're probably pretty annoying to our friends.

And that's how I got here. Writing this blog. My wife and I are trying our hardest to live an ethical life. We've moved beyond a "green" life. I mean, what good is buying certified organic Cocoa that was picked by a 5-year old cocoa slave in some plantation. The plants may be free of pesticide, but the turmoil generated from such an unjust socio-economic system will do far more damage in the long term. And that is just one example of many. Every decision we make in life has ethical, and planet changing, consequences. Do you buy local, but pesticide laden vegetables, or opt for organic ones transported from a long distance? Should you run out and buy CFL light bulbs for every fixture in your house, or continue to use the incandescents until they burn out, then replace them with CFL lights? Do you shop for gifts or clothing at a fair trade store that provides income for the citizens of developing nations despite the fact that their products may have a high environmental price tag (not counting the petrochemicals it took to get them to you)? Do you go on that much-dreamed of eco-tourist working vacation (say rescuing sea-turtle babies in the Mediterranean) or stay at home and not spend the petrochemicals? Where do you turn for answers?

Can't help you there. But what I can do is tell you what we've found out, and what we've decided to do. I'll try to document every step we take on this ethical path, this good life. Sometimes it may be the wrong step. But, hey, we're learning here. A couple of average Canadians looking for their ethical ground. And that's the whole point of the thing. To learn what you can do to make the little changes. Make enough little changes and the big changes will take care of themselves. See you on the road.