Walking the walk

Had it been written up in a scientific journal, the experiment’s title might have been: “The Implications and Effects of Attempts to Reduce Carbon Dioxide Emissions in an Average American Household.”

A year and a half ago, after much discussion and some trepidation on my part, my husband and I agreed to reduce our carbon footprint. We donated our second car, a 13-year-old junker with a failing radiator and no interior upholstery on the roof, to charity. We’re both retired and have flexible schedules, so with some maneuvering and teamwork, we thought we could easily satisfy our transportation needs with one car.

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The last stop

My laptop buzzes to life with a slight crunch. This column is due in 20 minutes and I am currently on the phone with my mother explaining how difficult it has become to write it. I am hoping deep down that she’ll say something like “Oh, that’s ok, Zac. We’ll just run an old one. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

But she doesn’t.

“I had a big plan,” I tell her. “To take the L train out to the last stop in Brooklyn and walk around out there. Grab some food maybe, talk to some people?just check out this neighborhood that has a strange importance in my life.” I ride the L-train every day, but I’ve never been all the way out there. I was going to call it ‘The Last Stop.’”

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