Melting poles apart from frozen Icecream : Melbourne Indymedia

Some days I don’t need a weather report to tell me its going to be a stinking hot day. Awake and sweating I realize that the temperature has not dropped overnight just as the sun appears in a cloudless sky and I just know another forty degree day has just dawned.

My day starts like any other a shower and then the usual round up begins, school clothes and books are found, children are dressed and breakfasts are prepared and eaten in quick succession as the bowls arrive at the sink and are washed one after another before the ants use the kitchen as a parade ground.

Over the morning squabbles and last minute disasters I hear a state government sponsored advert telling me and a million other listeners that something serious is being done about global warming. My thoughts are that it’s about time although already I’m bored with the subject.

The information includes lists of examples of how our state is tipping the balance in major ways making our air cleaner our water pure and how the future will be sustainable. Pictures of windmills and trees go through my mind as I visualize the words as they are spoken, then as that advertisement fades the sounds of roaring engines replace its air space accompanied by the excited voice of an announcer advertising tickets to a road race which is sponsored by one of the all greats in petrol products.

Somewhere along the way pI must have missed the point, no amount of windmills or trees will ever clean the air if we continue to make it dirty, I think it’s like mopping a dirty floor with mud and even that comparison doesn’t quite meet the task. What does our economic activity leave us with except a surplus of CO2?

During the morning school run I find myself thinking about how much of a difference we could all make given the chance. I’m in bumper to bumper traffic on a major road so there is plenty of time to think about what could be done. I start by counting the cars, I can see, that have more than one person aboard, I count 3, mine included. There is one bus between us and the traffic lights and 6 four wheel drives some bumper to bumper and others singled out high up between cars. Trucks Vans and one very brave bloke on a bicycle make up the traffic jam that we are in. A passenger jet passes overhead before the lights change twice allowing my part of the convoy chance to creep as the bicycle is lost as a speck in the hazy distance.

My attention has been drawn just to traffic on my side of the road, before I’ve considered the other three directions from the intersection we have yet to pass. My hopes of anything serious were being done about global warming are all by this time seriously in doubt.

Major road works slow down my daily trip, a journey that takes twice as long by public transport after two changes of the bus service and the walk. I doubt if my fellow road users would ever fit into public transport even if the services became popular.

I also imagine how that change in travel plans would affect business. With everyone willingly going by public transport personal transport would not be as popular, so car manufacturers competing in shrinking markets and all the industry that sponsor those who make a living from sales would be hurt by such a drastic change.

The result would harm the very lifestyles that each and every driver seeks to achieve, so I conclude that my traveling companions and I have a vested interest in keeping things just as they are.

Most people like the feeling that they can chose their traveling companion or at least chose to have metal and plastic and a few meters between shoulders. We like the comfort of chosen upholstery, a play list of sounds or our choice and volume setting of various radio stations.

These reasons above all others, I think, stops most of us considering the bus, convenience come last. Safety of our children ranks amongst the highest with my segment of the population, we would prefer to drive, rather than risking our dearest to the general public, our own vehicles promise a predictable journey and a safe return. something we can insure and maintain control over.

Reaching the line of cars that turn off into the school campus, I’m collecting rubbish that accumulates in the car, I have help and collected sweet wrappers and newspapers magazines and ice-cream wrappers between slight advances. The usual things that never get to the bin are retreaved from under seats , and once collected I place them in a heap between the seats so that I can dispose of them thoughtfully.

As I reach the drop off point I realize the waste generated was another focus of a State government infomercial, and I reconsider my waste pile thoughtfully just as had been suggested.

If manufacturers I reasoned packaged their products with any thoughts besides marketing, half of the collection would not be awaiting transfer to the bin. The ice cream wrapper caught my attention lying on top as the car door slammed once a friend’s child joined the others on the pavement shouting last minute reminders through an open window. The Ice cream had come in the box lower down in the stack, all with glossy logo and a photo of the contents. A Bulla Choc Top all eight had declared in brown and gold lettering and on the box just in case there was any confusion larger letters declared exactly the same. One of the wraps showed the other side and I could read, Made in Spain. Sure enough no mistake was made the wrapper went on to explain that the Australian company had indeed imported pre packaged ice-cream from Spain apparently to test local markets to see if children would like chocolate ice cream. My kids had and I had not asked them, I just bought the box because it was cheap.

Thoughtfully I continued my journey knowing that a refrigerated container vessel was at sea between Europe and Australia to deliver consignments of Bulla Ice-cream it made my journey seem small and a great deal more environmentally friendly. I thought that the reason must be sensible, perhaps creating the ice creams here may not be practicable, perhaps retooling a factory would cost too much for a risk on a new line so a duplicate, already in production Choc Top, was found in Spain repackaged and had been ordered to fill the gap. I marveled that such a deal could be struck that would transport ice-cream across the equator ready for our frozen section in local supermarkets at $490 a box. I also wondered what else was waiting in the supermarket that had come thousands of miles to add to my grocery bill.
The news paper and magazines offered me no reason to doubt my conclusion. Both carried adverts for cars and adverts to the places that things were sold where you would need to drive in order to make the purchases convenient. Drive through service is everything in our city, I even saw signs that even made it quick to write thru, where Drive Thru was acceptable, and from bottle shops to restaurants I knew these brief stops must become part of the next government focus. That’s if we are getting serious.