Mother Earth is on the payroll

I never wanted to be a billionaire. But as The Good Lord^* says, you can’t always get what you want. I just wanted a comfortable cabin with the steady drip of potable water and a wood burning stove to warm up my feet on a cold day. Not too warm though, I’m an ethical vegan and despite that, I can’t be on the menu, especially now. After years of hiking through the vast North American wilderness, not even Quentin Tarantino himself would request an audience with my weather-beaten tootsies.

But then my friends, family, and millions of strangers starting asking me to make them windbreakers and other outdoor apparel. 

I tried to do more for Mother Earth. I had a whole line of leaf coats, but when they changed colors after a big summer sale, rich New Yorkers wouldn’t stop taking photos of my loyal customers. Leaf peeping is infinitely easier when you don’t have to drive to Maine. I found that out the hard way.

For a while now, I have tried to help saving the planet in small ways. I took a page out of Kris Kringle’s book, several actually. The first was hiring a wider range of employees. In this case, squirrels and others. While they lack the opposable thumbs and flare of polar elves, their constant garment gnawing proved helpful when designing durable products. Like Santa, I have also begun making a list of good people and bad people. I’m not sure what I plan to do with this list, but I have a few ideas that I’m not foolish enough to put on the record here. 

There were lots of options for us. Like closing up and shop and creating a nature sanctuary. But what about all those nice coats? Finding sources of renewable energy is one thing, but have you see our new line of waterproof visors? 

With this maneuver, Mother Earth, despite all we’ve put her through, is now comfortably in my debt. I might never ask her for a favor. But say I want to build a vacation home, what then? Put it this way, I won’t be asking any help from a local politician.  

If there’s any hope for the future, my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren yet unborn, we must find a way to avoid the federal capital gains tax. It’s the least I can do. Trust me, I checked with several accountants beforehand. We can’t afford not to act. However, thanks to a few clever financial moves, I can. 

^*Mick Jagger