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The Bug Man Cometh
And the ongoing conflict plays out on my little plot of land.
I am getting those reminders again. ‘Time for your quarterly pest control treatment.’ Filled with dread, I mark my calendar and try to forget it.
But still, the bug man is coming to my house. I detest these visits; they are my dirty little secret as an environmentally conscious citizen. I pace internally for days before, trying to get a workable perspective, and failing.
The guy (it’s always a guy) is young, friendly, professional, and efficient as he circles our property with his magic wand, spewing the least damaging liquids I can get. The seemingly innocuous visit distresses me on several levels.
Why are these young guys doing this work? I want to pull them aside, talk to them about their yellow-tinged eyes, how the ‘protective vest’ they are wearing won’t really protect them over time from these chemicals seeping into their cells. Luckily, there seems to be a lot of turnover, so I am hopeful these guys are leaving to get better, healthier jobs.
The last guy, Seth, showed me his new baby pictures and I wanted to shake him and tell him to drop the chemical wand and run! I planned to have a standoff in the driveway with him on the next visit, but he did not return. I am sure it’s not me — I am a loyal…
