I got the news this week, delivered straight up with no sugar coating.
"Cars pollute the earth, Daddy," my youngest informed me. "They blow smoke. They make everything bad. My teacher told me."
It was actually the third time I'd received this information. Over the years, each of my offspring has laid this truth on me and each time I have given the same reply.
"That's right, honey, cars are destroying the world. Science and medicine are conspiracies used to mind-control the masses and computers work because they are possessed by the devil."
What else could I say? Apparently you're never too young to learn the truth or too old to lay a guilt trip on a kindergarten kid. Sins of the father, I suppose.
I'm not sure why the old "cars equal Satan" thing makes me angry but each time it gets brought as homework I feel a searing burn. It's not like I don't think air pollution (and by default car pollution) is a problem but it is a terribly complex problem, maybe the most important challenge we face.
I'm just not sure why we need to hand it over to kids who still believe in Santa Claus for analysis.
Maybe it's because I think that we, the adults, should work on that kind of thing and leave the whole "life is doomed, inherently unfair, everything that you have exists because someone else doesn't have it, cars are evil" school assembly until grade three. That, and the fact I'd practically kill to own a 1971 Chevelle in mint condition.
How does the average "cars screw the world" lesson go?
"Okay, class, today we're going to talk about how everyone you know who drives a car is a demon who is killing mother earth."
"Does that include my grandparents? My grandfather drives a Buick."
"Yes, dear."
"Should I kill them to protect the earth?"
"No, dear, we don't want you to do anything about the fact that cars are destroying the earth, we just want you to feel clinically depressed every time you get in your booster seat."
"Thank you, Miss."
"Now we'll move on to our next lesson. Is the Pacific Ocean more like a toilet? Or more like a sewer? Yes, Nicole."
"Miss, is it more like a toilet filled with sewer water?"
"Yes, Nicole. Well done."
I'm not suggesting that kids be given pro-car lectures. I don't think automobile companies should be sponsoring December Holiday Musical Demonstrations and providing free holiday trees. Just lay off the truth for a while. I didn't have to see that commercial where the Indian guy cried until I was well past my eighth birthday. Maybe I'm just truth-shy. If I was in A Few Good Men the scene would have gone:
"You want the truth?"
"No."
"You can't handle the truth."
"I know. I don't want the truth. I said I didn't want it."
Why choose cars when you're doing your doomsday speech to an elementary class?
The car is an easy culprit. They're everywhere, they pump out exhaust at an alarming rate (even though today's cars are more environmentally sound) and they clog up streets. It's Car-pocalypse Now.
Automobiles are something we can all feel guilty about. Even if you don't own a car, you owe your modern standard of living to automotive transportation. Everything we enjoy rests on four wheels. That's the other side of the inconvenient truth. Modern society is founded on movement. That is the fundamental value. The ability to move - people, goods, anything - is what allows technologically advanced societies to grow.
We could get rid of the automobile. Say goodbye to technology, mass-produced food, television and medicine. We could go off the grid and become subsistence farmers. We've done it before.
My ancestors had great jobs in the 19th century: sailor, soldier, sculptor and cowboy. Of course, someone will have to break the news to the billion or so folks who are likely to perish. We could send an e-mail but there won't be any computers.
What's the solution? How would I know?
Look, I'm a writer - if you want to know how to use spell check, I'm your man. When it comes to science and the environment, I rely on folks who work in those fields to find the solution. I do my part by conserving, by driving more judiciously, by voting for politicians who put forward environmental platforms. I don't do it by freaking out five-year-olds.
Unless threatening to erase an episode of SpongeBob counts. Then I do, a bit.
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Follow Andrew Clark on Twitter: @aclarkcomedy
Andrew Clark