truth hurts January 14, 2009

 

I recycle.  I unplug things when I’m not using them.  I drink tap water through a filter and I don’t stand in front of the refrigerator with the door open.  In elementary school, I was part of the 3R Club – Recycle, Reuse and Re-something else.  I tend to think my carbon footprint looks something like the heel of a stiletto as opposed to tracks made by Gene Simmons. 

 

But last night after watching a show on “Nat Geo,” I became convinced that I, singlehandedly, am causing the destruction of the world as we know it. 

 

You know how you can go online to WebMD, enter symptoms of the common cold and within an hour you are absolutely sure, without a suspicion of doubt, that you have a rare form of Hodgkin’s Disease and you may or may not be able to procreate?   That’s what National Geographic does to me.  I watch 60 minutes worth of a show about climate change and all I can think about is Armageddon and whether or not I have enough time to open up that restaurant I’ve been dreaming about before the world comes to an end.

 

And here’s why I’m the culprit:  cheeseburgers. 

 

 

That show last night explained how the amount of greenhouse gas emissions arising every year from the production and consumption of cheeseburgers is roughly the amount emitted by 6.5 – 19.6 million SUVs.  In the U.S., there are about 16 million SUVs on the road right now – including mine. 

 

I won’t get into the specifics (you can read for yourself here), but that’s insane.

 

I do love cheeseburgers and I’m not ready to let go of Whoppers, Bubba Burgers and patty melts (not to mention my beloved SUV, Red Dragon).  So I feel like maybe I should take the blame for this one. . . pretty much a gurarantee that the amount of cheeseburgers I eat on an annual basis will decide whether or not you live to see your grandchildren receive their hover craft driver’s license. 

 

No pressure.