All the Dues I Want To Pay

This afternoon, I walked around and around a store until I forced myself to pick something unobtrusive and in normal colors like gentle brown and quiet tan. I tried it on and was only moderately horrified. Even so, I hesitated. Finally, I took this monstrously overpriced gunnysack to the cashier, a woman of some taste and - judging by her blouse - terrible eyesight. I bit my lip.

Tata: If I were your former daughter-in-law and I showed up at your funeral in this dress, would you haunt me?
Cashier: Wh...what? No! [Confidentially:] Is she really dead?

Obviously, my lack of deeply inculcated religious belief of any kind is showing. I'm not reflexively as fearful of God as I am of wrath. But who doesn't fear wrath? Thus, I watched the first half-hour of Planet Green's Greensburg with the trepidation of the tornado-fearful and the impatience of a person whose imaginary friends might be symptoms. I almost changed the channel when the high school student said God sent twelve men to lift a truck off Grandpa, but Pete and I simultaneously grabbed at the remote when a whole town full of white people standing in front of huge piles of matchsticks said God was with them. Guess who was a carpenter!

I had high hopes for this show, but I can't stand all this talk about blue-eyed Jesus. After they're done being traumatized, I'll have a look at the green rebuilding efforts. Generally speaking, I might be a little cranky about greenovating. Years ago, I was part of a college radio comedy troupe comprised of 40-odd odd people, mostly musical technophiles and dancing computer nerds. Recently, I asked the erstwhile comedians to help me choose a composting technology to cope with some tricky conditions. As a line of inquiry, it seemed like a fantastic fit: a complex problem that happened to be both hilariously smelly and potentially puke-inducing. Almost no one gave it much thought. I considered throwing a hissy when I didn't catch on, but then I took a step back. Finally, I asked the group a question: without implying any judgment, I'd like to know why a group of homeowning nerds, most of whom have children and therefore a vested interest in the future, demonstrates little interest in green tech?

I've read a few answers and I still don't know. If plugged-in ubernerds aren't interested and buy SUVs, that has meaning. I have to think about this more. In the meantime, my sister Daria is full of crazy.

Daria: I didn't even know the Marcal came from recycled paper until you told me. I turned over the package and there it was!
Tata: So look at you go!
Daria: Yeah, I had a coupon. I bet that store you're haunting doesn't have any recycled paper products unless you're there.
Tata: What?
Daria: They see you coming and they all run to the back. "Here she comes! Get the paper towels!"
Tata: An entire grocery store chain is now humoring me?
Daria: Yup. They've got you on radar.
Tata: That explains this exotic and blinking ankle bracelet I don't remember buying.
Daria: Did you think there was a jewelry maker named COURT ORDERED. DO NOT REMOVE?