All pooh-poohing aside, perhaps a plan for sustainability is exactly what the town needs. Our municipality is one of the most diverse in the United States. It could use a blueprint for safeguarding the well-being of the future generations who will inherit the city. Maybe Mayor Brown is right on target when he writes in an introductory letter that the plan "provides a critical foundation upon which sustainable development and revitalization can occur."
Take cats in the park, for instance. On Page 12 of the plan, Action Item 4-h, proposed in the biodiversity section, states: "Eliminate feral cat colonies." Clearly these are not your average San Francisco cats. There's no mention of adoption or relocation, they must be "eliminated." These cats are obviously dangerous, and have done something extraordinary to warrant such action.
Let's consider the scenario that may have led to the recommendation of a Final Cat Solution:
Little Cynthia is playing by herself at a family picnic near Golden Gate Park's Stow Lake. Suddenly, a pack of 27 filthy felines pounces upon the toddler, sinking claws and teeth into her sundress and dragging her back to their colony to raise her as their own. For years, residents along Fulton speak of a mysterious Cat-Girl scampering through the underbrush with the pack, her hair in tangles, nostrils flaring to identify unfamiliar scents. Cynthia's long-suffering mother appears at a Board of Supervisors meeting and pounds on the table with her fist, demanding something be done with "these goddamn cats!" She holds up the only correspondence she's ever received from her daughter in 11 years. The note is signed, "Panthera of the Windmills." The supes exchange glances. Something has be done, for this Cynthia and all the other Cynthias. The Sustainability Plan passes out of committee, with recommendations for the appointment of a Cat Liberation Team equipped with laser-sight rifles and infrared goggles.
The Air Quality Department's Action Item 1-k describes another policy change vital to our future: "Reduce personal impact on the shared indoor environment by limiting the use of scented personal-care products." We are all aware that colognes and perfumes range wildly from aphrodisiac to emetic. But the inclusion of this action item in the official sustainability plan means that at some point, someone's odor evidently went far beyond the line.
Here's one possible explanation:
Brad and Susan are on a first date in an expensive, lactose-intolerant-friendly restaurant. Brad has prepared for the evening by using or wearing the following: Pert shampoo/conditioner, Mennen Speed Stick Classic Scent antiperspirant, Irish Spring soap, Paco Rabanne cologne, Edge lime-scented shaving cream, Mennen Skin Bracer aftershave, Consort hair gel, Dr. Scholl's Odor-Eater shoe liners; his mouth has received frequent applications of peppermint Certs.
Susan wears Johnson's baby powder, 14 types of hair products, Schick underarm deodorant, an unnecessary number of scented makeup products, and a hint of leftover potpourri from earlier that afternoon, when she refreshed that little bowl that sits on top of her toilet tank.
Between them, the lovebirds wear or have ingested 47 identifiable odor sources.
As they lean across the table before dinner to share an intimate whisper, Susan detects an acrid smell. Charcoal wisps drifting up from Brad's scented shoe-liners have somehow chemically attached themselves to free ions that have escaped Susan's hair spray, and the resulting molecular reaction has just been ignited by their table's candle. Within seconds, Susan's head is engulfed in flames. She runs screaming into the kitchen, followed closely by Brad, struggling out of his jacket, which has now become inexplicably coated with a purplish tar. The stench is too much for the sous-chef, and as he turns away to cover his mouth, his elbow brushes a pot of hot oil into a nearby propane container. A horrible, roiling fireball blows the front windows out of the restaurant, whipping shards of glass the width of the street. Several pedestrians are cut down, and a cop on horseback is impaled. Within the week, inside the darkened room of the city's Sustainability Committee, a slide is projected on the wall. It depicts a bloodied lump on an ambulance gurney. A serving fork dangles from what once was an eye socket.
"Turn it off!" cries someone. "We've seen enough!" The Sustainability Plan passes the committee unanimously.
The only question remaining is whether the supervisors will adopt the plan. They should. Within weeks after the plan goes into effect, everyone will stop smoking and eating meat, the crime rate will drop to almost nil, and friends will return things they borrowed years ago. Coin-operated personal deodorizing chambers will quickly appear in public places, with proceeds to benefit the Shanti Project. In an abandoned basement somewhere in the Mission, a mangy momma cat will silently pump out a litter of 12 glistening mutts. These kitties are toast.
Address all correspondence to: Slap Shots, c/o SF Weekly, 185 Berry, Lobby 4, Suite 3800, San Francisco, CA 94107; phone: 536-8152; e-mail: slapshawts@aol.com.
By Jack Boulware
