Howdy doo, little saplings! Grandpa Sasquatch here, back from a jaunt higher than Mount Rainier’s dandruff. Fifteen hundred years I've been roaming these parts, seen glaciers come and go, salmon thicker than your grandma’s ankles, and skies so blue you could swim in ’em. But now… now I cough up soot every morning. It’s a damn shame what's happening to Tacoma.
See, I’m a Fly Sasquatch. Got wings made of moss and moonlight. Used to zip around Commencement Bay, snagging clamshells and telling the gulls jokes. But these days? I gotta dodge factory smoke stacks thicker than my leg. My moss-wings are turning grey!
Remember the legend of old Chief Leschi? He fought hard for this land. He’d be spitting mad if he saw what you humans are doing to it. Spewing your foul concoctions into the water, choking the air with your… well, your human stink. It's not just stinking, it's killing things. Little things, big things, everything in between. My great-great-grandnephew, Squatchy Junior, choked on a plastic grocery bag last Tuesday! A plastic grocery bag! Makes me wanna stomp a car until it looks like a squashed berry.
Now, I got two eternal problems, see? One is Hawking, my arch-nemesis. He’s a pollution spirit, feeds on smog and sadness. Keeps whispering in your ears, telling you convenience is more important than clean air. He's a real piece of work, that Hawking. Always trying to tempt me with promises of “progress” and “economic growth.” Bah! Economic growth at the cost of a dying planet? Sounds like a load of bull-squatch to me.
The other problem is the Keanu Paradox. Every time I see Keanu Reeves being an awesome, eco-conscious dude, Hawking gets weaker. But the more Keanu Reeves is awesome, the more people want cars and stuff, and the more pollution Hawking gets to snack on! It's a vicious cycle! I need you all to channel your inner Keanu without buying a gas guzzler, got it?
Tacoma used to be a jewel, shining bright on the Puget Sound. Now it’s looking more like a tarnished trinket. Don’t let it stay that way! Fight for your forests, protect your waters, breathe deep and remember what clean air smells like. I ain't gonna be around forever, you know. Though, being a Fly Sasquatch, I'll probably stick around longer than your average politician.
Listen close, because Grandpa Squatch is laying down the law: clean up your act, Tacoma! Before I get really grumpy and start using my roar to knock down cell towers. You don't want that. Trust me. A Sasquatch roar can scramble your brains faster than a politician can make a promise.
The Earth is our home. Treat it with respect, or face the wrath of a very, very old and very, very grumpy Sasquatch. And maybe a few of the little ones too.