The Green Thing… Apparently, We Missed the Memo

So, there I am, innocently checking out at the supermarket, minding my own business, buying my digestives and carrots, when the young cashier, who looked like they were still recovering from teething, gives me a look like I just kicked a polar bear.

“You really should bring your own bags,” she chirps. “Plastic isn’t good for the environment.”

Oh good. A lecture with my lettuce.

I smiled, nodded politely, and said, “Sorry, love. We didn’t have the green thing in my day.”

And then, without a hint of irony, she hit me with:

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Your generation didn’t care enough to save the environment for our generation.”

But you know what? After the shock wore off, and I resisted the urge to use a cucumber to beat her with, I had a think. A good old-fashioned, nostalgia-fuelled, pipe-in-hand (well, metaphorically) ponder.

Here’s what I remembered:

Back in my day…

We returned milk bottles, fizzy pop bottles, and beer bottles to the shop. The shop sent them back to the manufacturer. The manufacturer washed, sterilised, and reused them. The same glass bottle did more laps than Mo Farah.

But noooo… we didn’t have the green thing.

We walked. Yes, WALKED. With our legs. No escalators, no lifts in every building, and certainly no electric scooters buzzing around like angry wasps. You wanted milk? You hoofed it two streets over, uphill both ways, in weather that would make Bear Grylls cry.
But apparently, we didn’t care about the environment.
We washed nappies. By hand. With actual soap. Not those one-wipe wonders that end up in a landfill with last year’s iPhones. Our clothes dried in the wind, on a line, using cutting-edge solar and air technology.

But no, we didn’t have the green thing.

Kids wore hand-me-downs. If you were lucky, they were only slightly stained and moderately itchy. You didn’t have a new outfit for every mood swing.

But still no green badge for us.

We had one TV in the house. It was the size of a cereal box and weighed as much as a Fiat. We stirred things by hand, wrapped parcels in yesterday’s newspaper, and somehow survived without owning seventeen gadgets that make toast while tweeting.
But we weren’t “eco-conscious.”
We used push mowers that required actual effort—powered by Weetabix and grumbling. We didn’t pay £40/month to run on a treadmill while watching someone else cook on Netflix. Exercise happened by accident, usually involving a shed.

But again—no green points.

We drank from water fountains (yes, actual fountains), refilled pens with ink, and changed razor blades like grown-ups.

Still not green enough.

We took the bus. Or a bike. Or our own feet. We didn’t need to summon a metal box via satellite just to get to Greggs.
And when we wanted pizza, we had to walk to the shop, order it, and wait for it. Like barbarians.

Also, just to really burst your smug eco-bubble:

In 1967, the UK Electric Vehicle Association, YES, that was a thing, announced we had more electric vehicles on the road than the rest of the world combined. (Source: Wikipedia. Because facts are still a thing.)

So yes, dear cashier, you’re right. We didn’t have the green thing.
We just did it. Without hashtags. Without biodegradable tote bags made from recycled irony. Without shouting at people in supermarkets.

So, the next time someone under 25 wants to lecture you about how your generation destroyed the planet, maybe gently suggest they unplug their five devices, stop ordering single-use smoothies in reusable cups, and go hang a pair of socks on a washing line.

Then walk away. On foot. Like a legend.