To a Degree

Not too long ago, I visited my daughter and grandsons. In the grand scheme of things, I ended up sleeping in my youngest grandson’s room. Of course, being the nosey Ga’maw that I am, I took in many of my grandson’s accoutrements: the items on his shelves, the clothes on the floor, and various items hung up on the walls. One of the things affixed to his wall was a certificate applauding him for “[his] concern for the environment.” Now, on the face of it, this is a laudable things – aren’t we all “concerned for [our] environment? Of course we are. We recycle, we watch how we dump trash. We try not to pollute. All fine and dandy stuff… Than why did I have to read the certificate several times? Why did I eventually give up on trying to understand what it actually meant ? Here’s why: It was gibberish. And I don’t mean it was third-grade language (it wasn’t). I don’t mean the rather silly title of the certificate (it was entitled “The Moon Award”). I don’t even mean the mixture of capi