Kia ora koutou, as a representative of a generation which used glass bottles for milk, soft drinks and beer, made our own orange and lemon juice, our own gravy, who washed nappies every damn day for a few years, who grew our own vegetables and trenched most of the household peelings etc, and that the only takeaways bought were pies or fish and chips and they were rare treats as was an ice cream, I’d like to say I resent being blamed for climate change.
Sure I cooked on a wood and coal stove. I didn’t cook on an electric stove until I was twenty five or maybe older. So shoot me.
Sure when washing machines came along I wanted, and eventually, got one. Of course I wanted a fridge. I think I might have bought two bottles of water in my entire life.
Yes, I used a car as soon as I could drive one. I lived forty miles out of town, it made sense.
Did I wrap every damn thing in plastic? No, I did not. Did I speak to the person at the supermarket about it? Yes I did. Did that make any difference? No, it didn’t.
So I’d like the young people who blame me for climate change to get a grip and look at some history, spend a little less time blaming and a little more time listening. I’d like them to vote in the coming local elections, I’d like them to stop riding bikes on the footpath, I’d like them to stop buying water in bottles…the list goes on.
Self–righteousness is a trap we all fall into from time to time, I don’t blame them for that, I’ve had a few bouts of self–righteousness in my time. I support their calls for action on climate change but enough with the blaming, ok?
