Happy Earth Day

It's Nature's Way of Telling You Something's Wrong

Cindy was drunk. And stoned.

And it was Earth Day.

"I'm celebrating with chemicals," she announced. "Chemicals from the Earth."

And then she started dancing. Even though there was no music.

We watched her dance -- at first it was energetic, then it faded down to that slow swaying that emphasized her hips more than anything else.

She looked up and noticed everyone staring at her. "It's my dance for Earth Day," she said. And started dancing again.

And we all nodded as if it made sense.



After a while, Cindy stopped dancing.

And started talking. And talking.

She talked about the evils of corporations.

She talked about pollution.

And she talked (in surprising depth) about Martians.

The Martians know what's really important. Stuck up there on a dead planet, they look to the Earth longingly.

"They want the green. They want the oceans. They even want the annoying mosquitoes. What they wouldn't give to be bitten by a mosquito or to have their legs broken by falling out of a spruce tree."

We should have stopped her when started on about the Martians. But we didn't.

So Cindy kept ranting about the Martians and we all looked around, vaguely embarrassed. No one stepped forward to stop her. Instead, we all silently agreed to let her keep going until she ran out of gas.

And finally, she stopped. And looked around the circle at each of us.

Years from now, when I've forgotten about the evil corporations, and the horrors of all kinds of pollution, I'm sure I'll remember what Cindy said.

With the kind of certainty that can only be achieved through high-doses of chemicals, she loudly proclaimed: "Because on Mars, every day is Earth Day."