December 10, 2012
Ellen/Reid: Fasten your seat belts, your dad is about to go ballistic.
I am disappointed, taken aback and steamed beyond belief about the stinky white gunk this morning floating in the otherwise tranquil little stream behind the house. You should have a photo of this environmental snafu by now. How the hell can people dump stuff like this down a storm drain? It’s the same body of water I watch birds wash themselves in, little fish and tadpoles swim around madly to escape herons and where deer stoop for a drink. I know it’s only a small stream that emerges from a culvert and that you could jump across without a running start but holy smokes, this is my back yard. In another 400 yards it empties into McMullen Creek and so whatever damage it may cause here will be multiplied down there.
The white goo that seeped into the stream behind the house. There was no rain to shove it downstream or dilute it; whatever it was stayed this way for most of the day.
It just sickens me that this is how we deem to treat our small chunk of the world. If Mother Nature has a temper, then it has to be screw ups like this that would set her off. I sent an email along about the situation with my phone, offered to send an email with a cell phone photo of the white water (and left a voice mail, too), to the pollution control folks at Mecklenburg County but no response so far, which infuriates me. It is supposed to rain later today, and that will accelerate the problem, literally, by flushing it out of my back yard where it will then become someone else’s problem further down the watershed. I suppose this is why some of my donations go to the Nature Conservancy, the Sierra Club and the National Wildlife Federation. Excuse the rant but it drives me nuts.
After you’ve just read the first paragraph, don’t drive me any more nuts by getting me anything for Christmas. Those iPhone Facetimes with Emma, and your trip to CLT, Reid, are all the gifts I need. Also, I’ve taken to leaving on the Christmas tree lights at night because when I come downstairs about 5:15 in the morning to make coffee and retrieve the paper, its multi-color glow seems pretty welcoming. A gift-laden tree it’s not, but that’s okay. By now you should have received just about everything you’re gonna get.
The newspaper delivery lady got $25 as a holiday gift. I was up Saturday morning (ugh) about 5:30 and her truck was running in the common area. I scribbled out the check and carried it outside just as she was getting back into her rig. It wasn’t much, but enough for her to at least get some thanks. She delivers the paper like clockwork, rain or shine. I didn’t say, ‘rain or shine or snow’ because we don’t seem to be on the verge of snow. Saw that you guys got dumped on in the Twin Cities, Ellen. Too bad. I played golf in shirt sleeves yesterday, although don’t read that as trying to rub it in. Ha.
Reid, you will meet Felicia for the first time when you arrive. She will meet us at Mac’s for some wings as soon as you step off the curb at the airport. She won’t go with us to Oak Island, and a word to the wise: we will likely get up pretty early in the morning on Saturday to give ourselves a head start on what should be about a four hour drive. Those cursed fisher-guides still have not returned my calls. Hell, we ought to rent our own boat. If by any chances one of them does call, we may get up really early so we can fish about 11:30 or noon for a half-day. I’ll be so disappointed if we don’t get out on the water, but at least you can say you’ll have driven through Laurenberg, Monroe, Rockingham and countless other eastern NC bergs. Trust me, you will see how the other half lives.
Okay. Outta here. Work to be done. Unfortunately, no one to pass the buck to. Happy holidays!