As part of my part-time day job working for a progressive, citizen-owned public utility, I have toam honored to be able to cover the sometimes mind-numbingalways scintillating workings of a representationally elected Board of Directors. Policy and direction is set by the elected board, which is made up of people who are really amazing detail-oriented and incredibly civic-minded, not to mention frighteningly policy-wonky. (I’m policy-wonky, too, which is why I like the meetings so much generally, all kidding aside.) The board makes all the major financial decisions, too, and they take that incredibly seriously and sensibly as well. (Lots of talk of “business models” and “best for our customers,” etc.) Nice, smart folks, one and all.
Often, I get out of these longthorough meetings feeling very good about the democratic process and the people who are drawn to public service at the community level.
As the Pet Connection’s new best friend Martha Stewart would say, it’s a good thing.
But last week, I covered a meeting that left me utterly depressed. A earnest, bright 20-something staff engineer with the very cool name of Obadiah gave the elected board, top staff and the handful of citizens at the public meeting (and me, peon with a notebook) an update on the good, not-so-good and worst-case scenarios on climate destabilization and what that might mean to the continued use of electricity by those of us who are so used to flipping a switch and not even thinking about the prospect that the room might not light up.
It was, to say the least, a downer.
After the meeting I called Christie, because the meeting was on the same day as the indictments related to the pet-food recall were handed down, which meant my cell phone started was doing the hokey-pokey all afternoon with reporters calling for comment. I needed to catch up on the news.
“We are so screwed,” I told her from my cell phone immediately after the meeting.
“Why, what’s wrong?!” she said.
“Climate change,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, well … ” she said. “Depressing.”
The reports I write on these meetings are very straightforward, but I made the general counsel laugh by presenting an alternative write-up to the official one I turned in: “After listening to the presentation and discussing the long-term possibilities at length, the Board decided we were well and truly doomed.”
So what does this have to do with pets? Why, nothing, of course.
Except that the “well and truly doomed” feeling briefly overcame me this morning when I realized that Dr. Becker and I have the better part of three books due April 1.
No fooling.
Of course, unlike climate destabilization, I can really, truly do something about the book projects. Like beg those of you with great stories — on horses, cats or dogs — to write them up pronto and submit them for the book. Don’t worry that they’re not “professional.” We have editors who can tweak them into the kind of thing you wish you could write if you only were as good a writer as Christie (Who says “maybe” she’ll write something, sheesh).
What we’re looking for are stories that touch the heart and inspire the soul. I know you have them, so share. (We pay, too!)
Want to know more? Go here and check out the guidelines. Your deadline is quickly approaching … March 15.
As for climate destabilization caused by our mad and crazy pace of fossil-fuel use … you can go here (one of my other day-job duties — I also blog there!) and get some ideas on what you can do to help. And your little dog, too.
Reminder to everyone:
Looking at real estate online. (
