Inconvenient truths

I’ve heard on the greenvine that Al Gore has been in the UK recently, training businessmen and eco enthusiasts to deliver his environmental lecture and slideshow ‘An Inconvenient Truth.’ As the official Eco Worrier of Burton I am wounded that Al hasn’t selected me to be one of his disciples to spread the message about global warming.
“Can you believe he asked Richard Branson and not me?” I grumble to Carbonlite as we swat fruit flies in the kitchen on an unseasonably hot day. “Richard Branson. What’s he ever done for the environment except pollute it with his stupid planes?”
“Well,” says Carbonlite, ever the voice of reason, “he’s promised to invest £1.6billion pounds over the next 10 years into to lowering our dependency on fossil fuels.”
I glare at him momentarily before replying, “Ok, fair enough. But what -apart from chucking 1.6 billion pounds at it - has Richard Branson ever done for the environment?”
Carbonlite charges at the flies with a sweeping brush, pushing crowds of them out of the velux window. “He’s joined the steering board of the Energy Future Coalition and has set up a good few of bio-fuel refineries in US.” Unworried by Carbonlite’s broom, the flies zoom straight out of one window and back in through the other.
“Ok, apart from promising 1.6 billion pounds, being on an energy coalition, and building a heap of oil refineries, what has Richard Branson ever done for….”
“Well he’s related to the guy who founded the World Wildlife Fund,” Carbonlite interrupts, “…and apparently he’s planning to turn the British Virgin Islands into the first entirely renewable energy powered Caribbean island.”
“All right, all right, Richard Branson is an international environmental hero, and I’m just a nobody,” I say irritably.
He grins at me and pushes gently on my arm with the brush. “Look, put it this way, if Richard Branson just gives that lecture once to his senior managers, that’s thousands of people educated about global warming in one stroke. How many people are likely to turn up to your Inconvenient Truth lecture in the memorial hall on a wet Tuesday night?”
“Every green convert counts,” I sniff, before quickly formulating a new plan. “You know what? I’m going to write to Al Gore to see if I can get on the next round of his training courses.” I reach for my laptop as Carbonlite puts down his broom, defeated by the fruit flies. Clouds of them are now storming the living room. “Cheer up, even Al Gore would say it’s not easy being green…unless you’re Kermit the Frog,” I reassure him, already wondering if Mr Gore will be listed in the Yellow Pages under Environmental Winners or Presidential Losers.

Before very long I have a raft of addresses for Al, but where to send my request? To his publishers, his campaign officers, his film company, his home, his UK or US office? The White House? All activity has now stopped in the kitchen but there’s a cacophony of banging outside. On the patio Carbonlite seems to be building a big wooden box with a lid.
“This is where all the flies are coming from. The compost bin. I’m going to box ‘em in,” he tells me. Typical. While I’m faffing around trying to contact Al Gore, Carbonlite does something environmentally practical. I’m never going to get the hang of being green.

Two days later, the sun is still shining and the fruit flies are in heaven. They’ve now got a beautiful wooden villa, with free buffet 24/7, plus if they get too hot, they can have a quick dip in the water butt, then retire into our house for a quick joust with Carbonlite and his broom. There are now thousands of them swarming into the kitchen, probably looking for directions to the compost holiday resort. Carbonlite is permanently installed on the kitchen worktop with a broom in one hand, a pan lid in the other, and a tea towel wrapped around his face; our very own domestic gladiator.
“What have I done?” he cries. “They’re so happy with their new home they’ve invited all their friends and relatives from the city to join them.”
“Come on Russell Crowe, we need to empty the peelings into the compost bin.” I tell him, grabbing the green mini bin from under his feet. What was once a quick chore of dropping potato peel into the bin is now a two man job requiring nerves of steel as the flies wage war against the humans trying to invade their new sauna. I make a mental note to ask Al about compost heaps and fruit flies, and add his reply to my future lecture on Inconvenient Truths.