Everybody feng shui tonight

I was sitting with my work roommates today and for some reason, perhaps to avoid work, or maybe to avoid work, we got to discussing the Chinese pseudoscience of feng shui.

According to Wikipedia (if you can't believe them who can you believe?) feng shui "claims to use energy forces to harmonize individuals with their surrounding environment."

Whatever.

But I suppose since I was the one who started this discussion, I should probably see it through. So let's unpack this. Or at least rearrange it.

Years ago on the late great show Penn & Teller's Bullshit, they did an episode on feng shui (and by the way, feng shui has the same number of letters as bullshit—coincidence? I think not). They recruited several different feng shui "experts" and had them all work on the same room, and rearrange the same furniture to achieve maximum harmony with the environment. What's so amazing is each of them arranged the room in the exact same way, proving feng shui is real and they all knew exactly what they were doing and talking about.

I'm just funnin' ya. They were quacks, and monumentally full of, well, you know the name of the show.

Here's the thing: I'm rarely able to harmonize with anything, much less my environment. My energy flow, such as it is, gets interrupted on an hourly basis. And moving the bed out from under a window, making sure it's not directly across from a door or having it face east isn't going to change that.

In the example of feng shui you see above, apparently placing the bed over the stove is not a good idea. I'd add especially if you have a one-story house. But I think if you're sleeping on another floor, the stove is off, and the house isn't on fire, you'll be able to harmonize with your pillow just fine.

Feng shui "experts" always remind me of dog whisperers—those people who claim they can talk to dogs and tell you what they're thinking and feeling. If you've ever hired one, I can answer that for you.

You're thinking you have too much money and feeling like throwing some of it away.

At any rate, under the heading of don't knock it until you've tried it, I might just move my favorite chair closer to the patio window to bask in the morning light, align my chí and absorb all the energy of a new day filled with potential and possibilities to see how well I'm able to harmonize with my environment.

Plus I can see the TV better from there.

A little housekeeping

Jerry Seinfeld does a routine about the contract we have with movie theaters. They rip us off, and we get to throw our trash on the floor. I believe when it comes to linens, a similar agreement exists with every hotel I stay at.

Ever since the environmental movement transitioned from social consciousness to fashion trend and marketing tool, hotels have sported these nice little table tents like the one above, printed on recycled paper and almost always with green ink. It asks us to help them Go Green!, to join them as allies in the sustainable, recycled, reuse of almost everything in the room.

It's a nice notion. But I'm calling bullshit.

Let's take a look at the ways they want us to help them. First, they'd like us to use our towels and sheets more than once. The new policy is sheets are changed every three days unless requested otherwise, and towels aren't swapped out at all unless you leave them on the floor.

Now let's see, who does this help more? The environment, or the bottom line on the hotel P&L sheet because they don't have to launder items as much, saving them water, electricity and labor. Don't say anything. I know the answer.

Here's the thing: for what I'm paying for this room, the floor is the only place I'm putting the towels when I'm done. They can more than afford to give me clean towels every day. I don't need the sheets changed daily, but only because I don't want housekeeping snooping around the room longer than they have to.

They'd also like me to turn off the lights, TV and air conditioning when I leave. Yeah, about that - I like coming into a cool if not freezing room. Especially when it's in a city having a heat wave, like the one I'm in right now. I always leave the TV on when I'm out of the room. Here's the reason: it makes it sound like I'm not out of the room.

As their guest, what's their cost to value relationship for making me feel safer?

Just so you think I'm not being cavalier towards their profits...I mean the environment altogether, as long as there's a light switch near the door I'm glad to turn off the lights.

I'd like to think the hotel has good intentions, but it's just too transparent. I know they don't. But if you know anything about me, you know I'm nothing if not Mr. Glass Half Full. Despite my griping, I can still see the silver lining.

At least they're not asking me to drive a Prius.

At least it's not a Prius

I'm sure your photographic memory of all things Rotation and Balance will remind you I've already posted in the past about getting a loaner car, and a hybrid loaner at that.

Well, it's happened again.

Apparently the air conditioning in my car decided to give up its relentless pursuit of perfection just in time for some record-breaking March heat. I took it into the dealer because, you know, it was that or run down the middle of the street tearing up twenty-dollar bills and throwing them in the air. They diagnosed it as a broken blower motor (I'll wait while you insert your own joke here).

It's going to take a couple days to get the part. So the dealer, obviously sensing my green lifestyle and unwavering commitment to saving the planet, gave me, yet again, a hybrid to tool around in while I wait for my blower motor to be swapped out.

This time it's the Lexus CT200h F Sport. And against every instinct that's good and holy, I have to say it's pretty fun.

It has two modes, eco and sport - just like my high school girlfriend. BAM!

Eco is like dragging boulders uphill against a hurricane, and goes from 0 to 60 in, well, it hasn't reached 60 yet.

Sport mode however is another story. Turn the dial over to sport, and a tachometer appears on the gauge cluster, and the lighting changes from white to red. Suddenly, it's the little hybrid engine that could. And it hauls.

The picture up top doesn't do it justice. It's actually considerably more on the bad boy side of quirky looking in real life.

What I like to do is pull my fire-engine red loaner up next to a Prius. Then, when the light changes, leave them in my environmentally friendly, high mileage, low carbon emission dust.

I take my thrills where I can find them.

The car is smaller than mine. And since I'm a, um, fuller version of my younger self, the fit is a little tighter. Still, once the leather sport seat wraps its arms around me, space considerations are forgiven. I have the nicest go-cart at the track.

I'll be glad to get my own car back Monday or Tuesday. But until then, I'll be enjoying this attention-getting red hybrid in a way I never thought possible.

From behind the wheel.

Sustain this

When I was growing up - a process many who know me would say I have yet to accomplish - I remember in history class or social studies when we'd talk about the then Soviet Union. We'd laugh as only ugly Americans can at the plight of those people who, having yet to experience perestroika or come to their capitalist senses, were still living under a harsh communist regime.

One example of their state of despair that we talked about always, pardon the pun, stuck with me. It was their toilet paper. The teacher would make the observation that in communist countries, the toilet paper was always brown and had the silky smooth texture of sandpaper.

Clearly Mr. Whipple was not a communist.

I've never forgotten that image of square, brown sheets of paper. In fact, I couldn't even if I wanted to. I'm reminded of it every time I go into a restaurant where they use napkins made from recycled paper.

Absence of color me old-fashioned, but I miss the soft white napkins these environmentally correct ones have replaced. They brought an elegance to the dining establishment, even if the main course was burgers and fries.

And really, are we running out of trees to make paper? Trees are one of our most renewable and sustainable resources. While we may not be growing them as fast as we're cutting them down, are we really at the point we have to recycle paper that's been wiped across someone else's mouth?

The solution seems relatively clear - plant more trees, and make the ones we have now last a little longer.

Yeah, I know it takes electricity to run the mills, but the sandpaper napkins aren't making themselves either. Track it down and you'll find a brown plug somewhere.

Besides, when a restaurant like, for example California Pizza Kitchen, decides to trade down to recycled napkins, they may be making themselves feel good about their environmental efforts but they're also cheapening the currency when it comes to their brand. You can bet customers aren't hurling compliments at them for their proactive stance on the napkin issue. No one cares. The damage to the brand isn't worth the trade-off.

I have no doubt I'll be hearing from all my Earth Day-lovin', environmentally leanin', recycling supportin' friends about how wrong my position is and how I'm advocating wastefulness.

If it's any consolation, I love the Dyson Air dryers in the men's room.