I remember when I first heard of the oil spill that was happening in the gulf and thinking, “Man, didn’t B.P. just have a huge problem a couple of years ago in Alaska? They had a pipeline burst or something, right?” Before I could question any further, the part of my brain in charge of rationalization kicked in and said, “Yeah, but they also sponsor The Amazing Race, so they can’t be that bad. Besides, stuff happens, so don’t get all up in arms.” Satisfied that I didn’t need to be angry, I blissfully turned away.
Suffice it to say that things have changed over the last 43 days to make me regret my previous complacency. This morning at breakfast, I told my wife that I was going to have to start driving by all B.P. stations and filling up somewhere else. Little did I know that the Lord had something different in mind for me, for as she goes out to start her car, Kim finds out that it won’t go, meaning she has to take mine.
When I get home today, I tried to start the car and sure enough found that it worked, but only if I finessed it quite a bit. Low on gas, I hurried down to the nearest station, which unfortunately happened to be a B.P. station. The place was deserted, like zombie-apocalypse deserted. 1 lady behind the counter was watching 1 vendor put away his stuff while I walked in to buy a gas additive that I hope will help Kim’s car limp through another few months/years. When I got to the counter, guess what the lady’s name was. Go on…it isn’t even hard.
Katrina.
Yep…Katrina was working at B.P.
It isn’t so much that the jokes write themselves…although the do…it’s that the horrendous conclusions are splashed up there on the wall for all to see. Katrina was bad, yes, but this thing is downright nasty. Katrina dealt its damage and left, but this monument to greed isn’t going anywhere for a long, long time. Goodbye white beaches. Goodbye shrimp, oysters, and a huge chunk of the Gulf economy. Hello feelings of guilt as I fill up my gas tank and wonder about the fishermen who won’t ever inherit their father’s father’s father’s boat because they have to sell it for mortgage money. Hello wondering how long that crap will take to disperse and how many creatures it will kill on its way. Hello continual feelings of anger at disengaged B.P. execs who will eventually square away everything with the public by saying they were ‘in shock’ or ‘drunk’ when they were trying to explain how badly they had jacked our environment.
Here endeth the lesson. If you get something better out of it than I did, please pass it along.
Colin Donahue's Unimpressive Words 