Like Smoke

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• June 9, 2023

Some years ago, I was doing a comedy show and there was a fundraiser for local firefighters. Firefighter fundraisers, to be honest, can be really hit or miss. Sometimes they are great and really on board with whatever borderline offensive jokes you tell. Other times they can be rowdy, fueled by alcohol, with a sort of frat boy show off mentality. Like most groups of people, it depends more on individuals than it does their uniform.

This was a particularly good show, if my memory serves me correctly (it doesn’t always, shows blur together). Personally, as a woman in comedy, I often hide from certain groups after shows. I’ve had bad experiences with volunteer firefighters (and some young veterans). Because some of them have this entitlement that because they serve the country or community, I owe them a blow job or something. Granted— this is not the majority. This is a select piggish few in what is an honorable career or volunteer work. And no, I do not judge an entire group by the poor behavior of the few, but one must understand my reasoning why I don’t like to be around drunk volunteer firefighters.

This, though, was not one of those bad occurrences. I chatted with a firefighter after the show who was quite drunk, but didn’t lose his ability to be a gentleman. He complimented me, saying how brave stand-up comedians are.

“Errr…” I said, “ballsy, yes. But when it comes to measuring bravery, there’s no way in hell I’m running into a burning building unless, maybe, there’s a baby or child in there.” Fire, in my brain, means run. And so, we had a verbal ping-pong game complimenting each other on valiance.

My cowardice when it comes to fire was exposed in the days I worked in the nursing home. During a fire drill, we were instructed that if the building were to catch fire, all hands were on deck to help evacuate the residents. I had told my co-worker that if it was a minor fire on the other side of the building, I’d be there. But if engulfed in flames, I’d jump out the window and run home.

“But you’d get fired.”

“Fired is better than being ON fire. Plus, these people are mostly dead. I have my whole life in front of me.”

“But… these are people’s grandmas.”

“And I have grandmas who don’t want to see me perish in a fire.”

I found my logic sound, if not selfish. However, even minor burns I’ve received in my life caused me far more pain and grief than broken bones or bloody cuts.

It’s true I’m a pot smoker, and  sometimes in my life a straight up stoner. Though not once in my life have I ever smoked a cigarette. Years ago, I remember, when I did a comedy festival in Atlanta, Georgia, smoking indoors was still allowed in several of the venues. It was terrible. On stage, my eyes burned and teared up. Despite killing, I desperately wanted off the stage and to go outside. I don’t know how comedians performed when smoking was legal indoors. For sure, I would lose my voice (I lose my voice easily) on a regular bases and would have a perpetual sinus infection. Which no one wants. My voice is nasally and annoying enough.

Furthermore, as a surfer, preserving my lung capacity is extremely important to me. Too many times I’ve been held underwater by mother ocean, running out of oxygen and scared for my life. Every surfer knows. It’s the worst feeling.

So, on Tuesday evening, June 6th, when I was in the city for a gig and the smog from the wildfires in Canada started turning the city into an eerie sepia, my skin was crawling to get out of there. And the following day, when I opened my blinds, I was horrified to find the outside was yellower than a Jack-O-Lanterns eyes, and far more terrifying. The city air, breaking a record for the worst air quality in the world (we’re number 1! we’re number 1!), was actual poison.

All the warnings were to stay indoors. My apartment quickly went from smelling like soothing essential oils to a bonfire— as though I had torched my furniture. In a panic, I texted my friends and family members on Long Island. They too were engulfed in the hazy smog, only to a slightly lesser degree.

Had I not had weekend gigs I didn’t want to cancel, I would have hopped a flight to Florida to my parents. My OCD was ringing all the alarm bells. Had I still worked in a nursing home, I would have borrowed an oxygen tank (but I will never, ever, ever work in a nursing home again). My eyes itched and my sinuses began to ache. You could taste it. For once, the news was not exaggerating how bad it was (you should almost never fully trust what you hear on the radio or see on TV, coming from someone who writes for both radio and TV).
This was an actual nightmare.

While I’ve no doubt climate change (and somewhat of our doing) attributes to the severity of these fires and much of the weird weather we will continue to experience until the planet eventually turns to dust like our sister planet, Venus, wildfires are not only natural, but important for the eco system. According to the western fire chief association, “in many ecosystems, wildfires are nature’s way of regenerating the earth, allowing important nutrients to re-enter the soil, and creating new habitats for plants and animals to thrive. However, if wildfires burn for too long, ecosystems can struggle to recover.”

Look, I’m not an ecologist, but I would surmise that this fire of 2023 does surpass what is probably good for environment.

People, right now, are wrongly steered in the direction that electric cars and lithium batteries are good for the environment. They are not. They are simply another source of energy that will deplete our world of our most precious resource: water. As in the Guardian, “lithium mining is, like all mining, environmentally and socially harmful. More than half the current lithium production, which is very water intensive, takes place in regions blighted by water shortages that are likely to get worse due to global heating.”

Lithium mining takes literally a ton of water. Ipso-facto, if that becomes our main source of energy, we will see a huge increase in what New York experienced. A world in smoke. I’m not against electric cars, to be clear (actually, I think hybrid cars are currently the best option). But climate activists, at least the political ones, often just spew rhetoric to get votes.

And if you drink almond milk, consider switching to something else. Part of the reason the wildfires in California are so bad is because of almond farms. “Almond milk is one of the worst offenders when it comes to water use and carbon emissions. In fact, it has been estimated that a single cup of almond milk uses more than two gallons of water and releases more than three pounds of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere,” says 8billiontrees.com.

Once again, we take water for granted. And we shouldn’t. We can all do a small part conserving water and limiting plastic water bottle use (get a canteen and water filter already). For the love of god, stop littering. Anywhere and everywhere you go. If you litter, even on a small scale, you are not Mother Earth’s friend. This is our home. Respect it. And be weary of of the rhetoric around climate change… some of it is legitimate, but some of it is showbusinness, and it’s just smoke and mirrors.