When it comes to global issues, I know what's important, where I stand and if it matters to key men I'm interested in, but I won't actually get involved. That requires a personal sense of responsibility that I just don't have. You won't find me protesting immigration policy clutching a messenger bag decorated with pins. And being that I am a cheapass, I will definitely not be giving anyone a donation - whether it's for a noble cause, such as saving the rainforest, or for something outrageous like fighting the war against hot air ballooning.
It's not that I don't like immigrants (they're a delight to make out with) and the rainforest, well, it's always been good to me but its impending extinction isn't something I think about daily, like shaving my armpits.
When considering my peers, I never felt my civic inaction was abnormal. But I recently came into contact with one young man who made me wonder which of us was weirder - the one who cared or the one who was too cool to?
I was rushing on my lunch break, scrambling down State Street. I usually succeed at ignoring anyone begging for money or cigarettes, but this day brought no such luck.
What's your favorite animal?"" a guy wearing a Greenpeace T-shirt asked me, holding a pamphlet with a polar bear on a melting glacier.
I tried to keep walking, but smiled wearily to let the hairy John Lennon-esque guy know that while I emphasized with his cause and felt bad that he was wearing Tevas, I was hungry for some meat and needed to be left alone. I thought this look was universal and that he'd let me be.
""Come on. Which animal is it? Do you like tigers?"" he stepped into my path.
""No. Dogs."" I walked more slowly.
""What about wild animals?""
""No. Scary.""
""Wouldn't it scare you if the world didn't have any animals?""
""Well...""
""Let me tell you about Greenpeace, and how we're going to save animals and the world. You know our environment is under attack, right?""
I nodded. Why? Still not sure.
""The threats of global warming, destruction of forests, and hot air ballooning loom. If we don't act soon, we'll lose everything we love, including your dogs.""
I feigned shock with a theatrical dropped jaw and hands on my face à la ""Home Alone.""
""But you can help. We need people to come together. Last month we had 500,000 people rallying lawmakers to stop global warming. Tell me, do you care?""
At this point, I could've said no. But that wasn't entirely the truth. I sort of cared, or at least wanted to care about something bigger than myself.
Besides, underneath this guy's Jesus-ish mane and patchouli stench, I could tell he had a real fiery passion in his eyes, something I've only noticed in myself after snagging the last piece of Mac 'N Cheese from Ian's at 3:00 a.m.
Greeny cared enough about something to actually do something. I imagined him going around the country doing all those Greenpeacy things - living in teepees, not wearing deodorant and wearing organic underwear, all while protesting, debating environmental policy and plotting the death of certain EPA members. And that was something I could relate to.
""Yeah. I guess I do.""
""You can help the world by filling out this form and giving us a credit card number. Every month, we'll charge a mere $20 and send you a monthly newsletter to let you know about our progress.""
I filled out the form. Greeny stopped playing salesman and we discussed our majors, the upcoming election and which types he occasionally allowed himself to miss. I handed him the filled-out form and saw how genuinely happy he was, and I soaked in his smile. For a second, I felt good as I walked away. I then walked to the bookstore and bought my first-ever political pin from that weird button dude: Irish for O'bama. I felt like a new person with a new world perspective and political idealism.
Then, after one block, I called MasterCard, told them I lost my card and cancelled it.
With that I Greenpeaced out.
If you think Ashley stereotypes people, especially vegetarians, you're right, so e-mail her about something else at aaspencer@wisc.edu.
