I’ve long had a bit of a pet peeve about people who sit in their cars for long stretches of time on their phone. Many is the time I go to a grocery store, park next to someone who’s in their car on their phone, engine running, I go into the store, come out half an hour or so later, and they are still sitting there in the same spot and still on their phone, engine still running. It’s not a rational pet peeve, but pet peeves aren’t really rational.
I pull into a parking spot on a street Sunday night for a ball game. As I am sitting into my open trunk putting on my knee brace (three surgeries on the same knee in five years, ouch), I see the lady sitting in the car behind me on her phone—and the engine is running, burning gas.
And I’m thinking to myself: why is she running the car? I could see it if it were 95 degrees out so she could stay cool with the AC. And I could see it if it were 25 degrees out so she could run the heat. But it was a perfect 70 degrees out. She doesn’t need either the heat or the AC. She doesn’t even need to sit in a car to protect her from the weather. She’s just sitting there running the engine and spewing the CO2 into the atmosphere, because she can.
No wonder the planet is dying.