My eco-friendly girl friend’s dirty chemical bomb

Personal care products

I smoke, therefore I pollute and I kill. I pollute and kill because a politically Green friend of mine told me so. She wants me to stop smoking. It’s difficult.

I was at her place recently and she recommended, for the umpteenth time, that I read the “It’s-a-World-Bestseller-because-the-Method-Works” ‘How to Stop Smoking’ book. We discussed that, and then I went to the bathroom to wash my hands before dinner.

Her thoughts were still guiltily fresh in my mind as I absent-mindedly chose between the two sorts of soap she kindly leaves at the disposition of her friends. One is in bar form, the other in a liquid dispenser. She’s a very thoughtful and considerate person.

My eyes just happened to lazily alight upon the shelf in front of me. Placed just below the mirror, it had just the usual toiletry stuff and toothpaste on it that one sees in friends' houses, as well as free sample sachets of various things. To my left, there was another shelf. More toiletries, but creams and stuff instead of toothpaste stuff. To my right was the bath, with the usual collection of shampoo and shower stuff. A lot of all the products in her bathroom were Bio. Of course.

“Do you want to help me with the salad?” she asked when I emerged. “Sure” I answered. “That means your hands won’t be so bored that you need to smoke, see? It’s easy!!” she said.

Anyone know the expression ‘It’s as if a light suddenly switched on in my mind’? I said “Ok, be there in a minute. Just gotta make a phone call.”

Pen and paper in hand and back in the bathroom, I counted 54 products on the two shelves and around the bath. I wrote down "54 in all." There were 22 above the hand wash basin, 17 on the other shelf, and exactly 15 around the bath. (Numbers duly and carefully noted.)

A more detailed analysis of these figures demonstrated that there were three different makes of toothpaste, 13 different hair and body washing products, 21 face and body creams and other body care products, six different nail and facial cleansing and related products, and 11 others, the role of some of which were undetermined given my limited awareness of the nomenclature and purpose of this sort of thing. (Numbers duly and etc.)

So where’s the problem here? After all, a family consisting of a wife with a husband and three children needs to think of everyone’s individual needs, right?

Right!

Wrong.

The problem is that my girl friend lives alone in her apartment. Alone. There’s just her there. With three toothpastes. And one mouth to brush. (Three toothbrushes, too, but that’s a hardware issue and another subject.)

A quick count revealed that five out of all of the receptacles of those products were either empty or very nearly empty. (Numbers etc.)

The labels were very pretty, but I was more interested in what was written on the backs of them. Boy, good job I had my glasses with me.

Roughly half of the products were labeled Bio, or assimilated terms, and I found that they contained, on average, and with samples from each group analyzed, around 15 components consisting of either “natural” or “chemical” elements.

Those elements included methylchlorisothiazolinone, ammonium chloride, ammonium sulphate, benzyl silicate, alcohol, various artificial colouring agents, various magnesium derivatives, various sodium derivatives, glycol propylene, trideceth-7, Alpha-isomethyl ionone, phynoxyethanol, and the exotically-named Bis (C13-15 Alcoxy) PG Amodimethicone. (Names painstakingly and feverishly written down etc.)

There were also various other extracts, flavorings, chlorides, poly-I-don’t-know-whats, alcoho-type things, additives and preserving agents.

But I knew that time was running out and that I had to get back to the kitchen before suspicion set in, so I stopped there, ruefully regretting that I had not been able to open and evaluate the contents of the three closed cabinets that contain most of my friend’s perfumes and colognes, essences and oils, makeup and so much more.

On my way back to the kitchen my mind rapidly googled the number of bathroom products that I possess. That search came up with one each of toothpaste, deodorant, face cream, shaving gel, hair and body shower gels and shampoos (yes, just one, I use a hair-and-body-all-in-one brand), and two colognes. That makes 10 products in all, but I willingly admit that I may have forgotten something.

My last thought upon entering the kitchen was “Man! If you put all the chemicals present in her bathroom together you’d have a bomb that could wipe out the whole of New York! Well, at least Galena, Illinois.”

Dinner was excellent and, seeing as I had decided to chill out and reflect upon my findings and analyze them in the cold light of day before revealing and launching the sullen, revengeful and counter-accusatory questions that were beginning to ask themselves in my confused head to my friend, we talked about other issues and experiences.

Coffee and cognac time, and I said I was going over to the window to smoke a cigarette.

“Polluter!” she predictably exclaimed, in that deliciously playful yet admonishing tone I know so well, adding “Listen, Michael. Seriously. You should read that How to Stop Smoking book.”

That was the last straw. The charade had gone on long enough. So I smoked my cigarette slowly and with delectation, breathing in deeply and blowing the smoke back into the room, safe and secure in the smug and sure certainty that I was about to expose her for the ecological fraud she was. No more lesson-giving or moral high ground invasion here my good friend. She was going to get her plane crashed, like it or not.

I went back to the table abruptly and sat down, vindictively determined to level the playing field. Now.

“Hey! For all you say on the environment, do you know what a dirty chemical bomb is, because that’s exactly what you have in your bathro...”

“Hey Michael, sorry to interrupt you” she said, “But, before I forget, it’s been almost a year to the day that you sold your car because I promised you that you’d be better off without it, like I am, and like I said you would be too, in an urban transport environment. How do you feel? Did you make the right decision? Has all the extra walking done you good?”

“Euhh, yeah.” I answered. A fact’s a fact.

I decided to adjourn the discussion I wanted to initiate in order to deepen my perspectives.

The environment is a complex equilibrium of input.

It’s complicated. Darn.

Isn't it?