It's not easy being green

So, I recently admitted that I enjoy being a consumer, that I love these new 24-hour mega-super-markets, and that I'd rather peel off all my skin and roll around in salt than purchase the goods in my local corner shop. Supermarkets are better for one simple reason: choice of products.

But, rather than being allowed to wallow contentedly in the fact that I can eat foods from all over the world; rather than being allowed to marvel with my fellow consumers at the ever shrinking nature of our spinning space-planet; gasp at the wonders of modern technology that allow us to purchase apples from New Zealand and bananas from South Africa; and cosy up in some sort of feelgood "we're all one global village" cotton-wool world; rather than being allowed to do all this, I'm being made to feel guilty. Why? Because I'm not buying local, and thus I am effectively strangling the very same world that I thought was marvellous just a few moments ago.

When did everyone suddenly become so obsessed with the number of air miles their food has travelled before it reaches their plate? I don't really care if my food has travelled to the moon and back four times before I wolf it down. I agree that, in theory, it's a good and moral stand to take, but I have a few issues with it.

The problem that I have with buying local produce is that I live in England, and local produce means cabbage, asparagus and potatoes. Now, I agree that locally grown food can be delicious, if you like that sort of thing. But I don't. I prefer foods that actually taste of something, like chillis, pineapples and mangoes. It's hardly my fault that they don't grow locally, so I have to buy the foods that are imported from Mars or wherever. Why should I punish my taste buds just because I live in a climate where the food I want to eat couldn't, and wouldn't grow, even if you held a gun to its... eh.... roots?

I do actually try to shop locally when I can. When I did my grocery shopping last week, I bought all British fruit and veg (with about three exceptions), so I felt quite proud of myself and I'm sure the checkout clone girl was thinking what a hip and PC young woman I was.

I'm feeling a similar sort of pressure with the car that I drive. When my car was born, the words "fuel" and "efficiency" would never have been uttered in the same sentence, and, thus, my car is a petrol-guzzling behemoth. I would drive a hybrid car if I could afford to buy one, but I can't so I don't. I would car pool with the people at work, insteading of driving to work by myself each day, except I work with just three other people, each of whom lives in the opposite direction from me. I would cycle to work, except I live 35 miles away. I would get public transport except I work in the middle of fucking nowhere and the nearest train station and bus stop are an hour's walk from the office (no exaggeration - I did get the train to work one day. Never again).

I have similar problems with recycling. I used to recycle pretty much everything when I lived in Ireland. I even had a compost bin! But in England, all I'm allowed to recycle is paper (magazines and newspapers), tin cans (beverage cans only, please!), and glass bottles or jars. I can't recycle cardboard and I can't recycle plastic bags, which is just ridiculous. If I did want to recycle these items, I'd have to drive to a specialised centre which is over 50 miles away from where I live, so I'd still be killing the planet with my pollution-belching monster car.

I just can't win.

I want to buy local produce, but I can't get the foods I want to eat locally. I want to buy Fairtrade produce when I can't get it locally, but it costs almost 50% more than "normal" (unfairtrade?) food, and I can't afford that. I want to buy a hybrid or fuel efficient or planet-loving car, but they're also too expensive for my budget. I want to recycle, but the country doesn't have the facilities for me to do so.

So, in summary, I have three things to say:

1. Kermit the Frog said it best when he said: "It's not easy being green".

2. Denis Leary also hit the nail on the head when he said: "I didn't break the planet, it was this way when I found it".

3. I've tried to be a good person. I've tried to look after the planet. I've tried to do the right thing. But, at the end of the day, I figure I'll be long dead before the world becomes some sort of Mad Max-type desert planet.

So, screw the air miles. Screw the pollution. Screw the dolphins getting caught in the tuna nets. Anyone for a spot of tiger hunting?

I am consumer, hear me roar

These days, it's not cool to be a consumer. Or, at least, it's not cool to admit to wanting to be a consumer. Nobody doubts the fact that, every now and then, you have to go out and purchase goods and services in order to, you know, survive. But you're not supposed to enjoy it.

Well, I do.

In fact, I love it.

For me, heaven is not a half-pipe. It's wandering up and down the aisles of my local supermarket, breathing in the tantalising aroma of freshly baked bread, breaking out in pleasurable goosebumps in the freezer aisles, marvelling at the colourful array of fruit and vegetables from all over the world, and feeling overwhelmed at the sheer choice of salad dressings.

I know that nowadays we're supposed to support our corner shops, but, to be honest, the corner shop is overpriced and kind of rubbish. They only ever stock one type of bread - the stale, cardboard-type. The fruit and veg always have suspicious looking bruises on them, and look about two days overripe and maggoty. The breakfast cereal boxes have that faded look about them that you know means they've been sitting there for about a hundred and twenty years.

Also, the person behind the counter is usually separated from the rest of the world by an inch-thick plate of bullet-proof glass. And that just doesn't entice me into wanting to buy anything. Call me paranoid, but, if the owners of the shop feel it's necessary to place their employees behind a sheet of reinforced glass, then I don't really want to take my life in my hands by perusing their goods with a pocket full of change. I mean, if they do get robbed, and the guy with the gun can't get through the glass, well, he's not going to want to waste his trip, is he? He'll want some form of recompense, and I don't want to be on the wrong side of the bullet-proof glass when he decides he's not leaving the place empty handed.

The only things corner shops are good for are the types of things you run out of in the middle of the night, and really can't wait 'till morning to get, i.e., cigarettes, alcohol and milk (for making White Russians). Then, and only then, will I go to the corner shop. And then, it's only if I can't find a 24-hour supermarket nearby.

No, I like my supermarkets big, white, clean, air-conditioned and soulless. I like the fact that, no matter which Tescos, Sainsburys or Asda I go into, I know exactly where everything is, as they all have the same layout. And, if for some reason I can't find what I'm looking for, then there are always plenty of clones, I mean, employees about to ask.

I like the fact that, when I go to pay for my groceries, the clone, I mean, checkout person always gives me a big smile, asks if I'd like any help packing my purchases, and says please and thank you as though their life depended on it. Sure, in their minds they're probably thinking of numerous ways to kill themselves if they have to sit at that checkout for one more day, but I dont care. They're not separated from me by a wall of glass that resembles a sneeze guard, and I find that reassuring.

At night, when I'm trying to sleep, I go to my happy place, and it sounds like this: "Beep..... beep......... beep......... clean up in aisle four ..... beep".