I fought the trash and the trash won

This week was my town's annual "get rid of the litter day." This is one of those volunteer events where, if you don't think too much in the long term, you can feel like you're doing a lot of good. Fifty-some people met (I was hoping there'd be more; I talked it up to all my classes but I guess no one had time) and we fanned out across the town to do battle with all the fast-food bags, drink cups, beer bottles, and other assorted and more horrifying things. (At least I've never found syringes or used prophylactics; I know people who have, though).

I took the street that leads up to my office building. By virtue of the fact that it's a small residential street off of one of the main arteries, by virtue of the fact that it's a wooded area, by virtue of the fact that it has a low speed limit, and by virtue of the fact that at one end of it is student apartments and at the other are some of the more "wealthy" subdivisions housing a number of teenagers with lots of allowance and not a lot of supervision, it tends to accumulate a lot of trash.

I started up at my building (the good thing being I had a secure place to park my car as I worked. Up on the campus grounds there was really NO trash, that's because we have an extremely diligent grounds crew.

But once I got into the wooded area, it got BAD.

I think part of this is that, although someone technically owns the wooded area, there are no houses built on it yet, and I think the owner lives in the City. So they don't see it, and unlike a house where someone actually LIVES, there's no one to go, "Oh, crud, some idiot left a bunch of beer bottles on the lawn; I better go pick those up."

I had latex gloves (which are nasty and I still haven't got the smell off my hands despite showering, washing my hands multiple times, and even putting on strongly-scented hand lotion) but they kept getting torn up because there is greenbriar growing along the roadside. (I also have a big scratch on my leg where the greenbriar snagged me through my jeans.)

I probably covered only 1/2 mile total in the nearly 3 hours I worked. (For comparison, I can walk a mile in 12-15 minutes without really breaking a sweat).

Most of what I picked up were beer bottles. (I suppose that's because some of our local disadvantaged folks often comb roadsides for aluminum cans that they can sell at the scrap yard). Beer bottles are HEAVY. And they smell nasty. And they attract snails - most of the bottles had a number of small snails in them. Or dead flies.

I filled seven large (like, the "lawn leaf bag" size) trash bags. I don't know what that size is but it's about twice the size of the 30 gallon bags I use for kitchen trash.

I didn't find anything TOO scary except there were some empty baggies and a couple of empty Zig Zag rolling paper containers. And some aerosol cans from different products; the way they were grouped and tossed make me wonder if perhaps said "more money than brains" teenagers were using them to get high off of. (It's their brain cells, I just don't appreciate the thought that they may be driving on the road the same time I am, or that I may wind up supporting them with my tax dollars when they fry all their synapses and can't take care of themselves any more).

And lots and lots of beer bottles. Both the standard size and the "forties."

I think I mentioned, beer bottles are really heavy? Even empty?

There were other imbibables' remains: several bottles from cinnamon schnapps. (The hell? I've never drunk schnapps but the thought of cinnamon schnapps makes my stomach turn inside out a little). And bottles from some kind of cheap whisky. (I figure it must be a cheap kind because the bottles were plastic and it was a brand name I'd never heard of).

And there were lots of soft drink cups. And Pepsi bottles (a few with a suspiciously yellow liquid in them. I didn't uncap those bottles to empty them...). And wrappers from hamburgers. And styrofoam "clamshells." And one happy meal box, which, though I hoped a bit, the toy was gone from.

Very few cigarette butts but I suspect that it's not the kind of place where people would be in a position to throw their butts; it's sort of a twisty road and it might be hard to take your hands off the wheel to pull the cig out of your mouth.

I also found a Coke can that must have been there since the 70s; it was a very heavy metal (not aluminum?) and had the old, pull-ring type opening.

I worked for about 3 hours (the time for the pick up was nine to noon but I knew they started serving the free lunch at about 11:30). At the end I REALLY wanted to finish but I couldn't, quite. Partly because it was nearly noon but mainly because I had absolutely zero energy left.

I have borderline low blood pressure. Normally it hovers at about 110/50 but when I do a lot of bending and reaching where my head's below my knees a lot, for some reason I get some kind of weird positional-hypotension like thing and I get dizzy really easily and get exhausted fast. And that was starting to set in towards the end, where I'd have to stop and straighten up and wait for my b.p. to equilibrate so I didn't feel like I was going to pass out.

And I realized, suddenly: if you don't stop now, you won't be able to walk back up the hill to your car.

(Part of it was probably that I didn't take any water with me; I have problems when I get a little dehydrated).

So I gave up just short of my goal, tied up the last bag, placed it with the others (the Solid Waste Department guys are going to go around and pick them up this afternoon) and headed back to my car.

I almost didn't make it up the hill and wondered if I could flag someone down when they drove past to help me. But I finally did.

And I got back to the central location. I washed my hands, got my free hot dog, and got what I really wanted - water. Pounded down a couple bottles of water and started to feel better after a bit.

They do drawings for prizes and I won a t-shirt, which is nice.

The best thing though was at one point, in the middle of my pickup (remember: I was working alone), a guy drove by in his car. Now, most of the people who drove by gave me these stupid or questioning looks, like "Why is that crazy woman out picking up trash" or "Hey, is she having to work off community service hours? Is she someone I know? Can I gossip about her?"

Anyway, the guy who drove by - in a little red car - he slowed down and gave me the thumbs-up sign as he passed. So, thank you, anonymous guy, that made me feel a lot better to think that someone appreciated what I was doing.

I chose the route I chose because I drive by it every morning as I go to work. I thought it would be nice to be reminded every day (well, at least until the litter builds up again) of what I did.

Though I suppose I'll curse the litterbugs when I drive by and see that it's bad again. And it being Saturday night, it could very well get bad right away. But I'm trying to see it as those Zen water paintings, something that doesn't last but was still somehow worth doing at the time. Or maybe like a kind act in a ruthless world: it doesn't make MUCH difference, but it still makes A difference.

footprints and dealbreakers

Sometimes, I read the New York Times. (Sometimes, it's when I need my blood pressure raised). Say what you will about their "truthiness" or not, it's one of the places you can find thought-provoking articles.

Like this one: A Year Without Toilet Paper,.

It's about a family that is trying to have zero impact on the environment. Or at least as little as they think possible.

(I am not going to argue global climate change. From what I have read I think it is happening, but it is also not clear how much is natural cycles and how much is contributed to by humans. Also I do not think it is happening as rapidly as some would have us believe. I'm also not going to argue that it's possible to have "zero impact" because it is NOT. The only way to not have any impact on your environment is not to be alive.)

And you know - I have to say this up front - I'm all for conservation. I am the person in my department who goes around turning off lights in rooms that are empty (it's to the point where I warn people, if they need the lights left on in an empty room for some reason, to tell me). I "batch" trips, even if it's more of a hassle to, to use less gas. It's just good practice to save energy and prevent pollution where you can. (And I suspect in the next few years - maybe I'm just being too much of an optimist - but I suspect we'll see great gains in efficiency and maybe some new technologies. So we DON'T have to go back to an eighteenth-century existence.)

But there are places where I draw the line.

No toilet paper would be the major dealbreaker for me. (Oh, not being allowed to buy books would be another - but the t.p. would be the big one).

I don't know. Part of me says, "If you choose to live like that, God bless you and keep you." I don't really care what people do in their own houses as long as it's legal, doesn't threaten public health or well-being, or involve harm to children, weaker humans, or animals.

But there's another part of me that's kind of ooged at how some folks have a way of turning everything into a moral choice. I get the distinct feeling from reading the article of "we're better than you; we're stronger and tougher than you. You should do what we do." (I think their whole reaction to "An Inconvenient Truth" - which, in fact, even some scientists promoting the idea of human-caused climate change have suggested is overstated and perhaps wrong in places - is very telling. It's almost like, "Dear God, what we should REALLY do is commit suicide, to save the planet from us.")

(I wonder - as fewer and fewer things are regarded by society at large as "sinful," if people feel the need to impose the concept of "sinfulness" [maybe by another name] on new things? Look at how food is treated in our culture: if you're a woman, it's expected that you "pay" for every "sin" of eating cake, ice cream, steak, etc. with dieting or exercise - or you "resist the temptation" from the get-go [and become one of those tiresome people who never shares in the birthday cake that someone else in the department has, and talks endlessly about your food issues]. Because a lot of the environmentalist stuff seems to be presented in quasi-religious terms - even down to the selling of "carbon credits," which remind me uncomfortably of the "indulgences" of the Middle Ages.)

So there seems to be this growing fringe in American culture who would turn back the clock and live largely like their agrarian ancestors, because they believe it will lessen their impact on the environment.

And, um, no. For me, part of being a member of 21st century society is that I get to take advantage of some of the innovations. (And seriously: if we went back to 18th century technology? There'd be more pollution. Ever heard of coal heating? Ever seen old drawings of London shortly after the beginning of the Industrial Revolution? Or maybe they want us to go pre-Industrial, where trees were felled for heat. Or where the "peasants" just shivered in the dark.)

I would also argue that using baking soda in place of toothpaste is a foolish choice: toothpaste is better for dental hygiene, and in the long run, unless you have preternaturally healthy teeth, you will probably get more cavities and gum problems (not to mention blood sodium levels!) using baking soda. And is it more environmentally sound to have to go and get teeth drilled, or use toothpaste in an aluminum tube?

And what of the human-misery angle? If I lived with someone who said, "In the name of causing less pollution, I am only going to bathe once every two weeks, and I am only going to brush my teeth with baking soda" I'd probably respond, "Enjoy sleeping on the couch and never so much as kissing me again." And if he suggested I do it? I'd be gone, daddy-o, gone.

But anyway. There are a lot of things there that I'd be unwilling to do. And the article also, I think, highlights some of the blind spots of urban dwellers. I've read people on Internet fora talk about how everyone should "just give up their car." Well...I live a fourteen mile round trip from the nearest grocery. It would take me all day to walk there, do my marketing, and walk back. But I don't get given a whole day off a week just to market. And going to the doctor would be all but impossible without a car. (Bus service is basically nonexistent here, and you could argue that a taxi is as polluting as having your own car). Yes, there are bicycles but thanks to multiple childhood ear infections, my balance is not good enough to safely ride a bicycle.

(Incidentally: this article - about saving money by giving up your car, which is in an otherwise-reasonable publication, irks me. I read this unwritten subtext of, "You can be environmentally smug and STILL get where you need to go, just by mooching rides off your car-owning friends!" While I'd not be hateful to someone who didn't drive for health reasons - or because owning a car really was a financial burden they could not handle - I would be very irritated with someone - like a particular person I know - who went "carless," talked up how virtuous they were, how healthy, all that, and then bummed rides home off of me when it was raining. Even if they offered to chip in for gas. It's not always an issue of money; it's an issue of dealing with ATTITUDE.)

There's also the whole "eat locally" thing. Where I live, there is little farming other than cotton and cattle ranching. And while I love good beef, it's not the only thing I want to eat. The couple in the first article will only eat food produced within a 250 mile radius. I suppose I could have milk, and beef, and maybe a few truck-gardened things in summer. But a lot of the things I normally eat - like oranges - would be right out.

(And isn't one of the reasons we live longer now that we can actually have vegetables other than beets and potatoes in the winter? And that we've essentially eradicated scurvy?).

That would be another dealbreaker - there'd be no chocolate and no tea. Two things very important to my diet - if not for nutrients, for my personal equilibrium and peace of mind. (And don't suggest that tea can be brewed from herbs grown in one's own garden. I've tried. Almost every herbal tea I've sampled tastes like ass. Sorry, but that's the best descriptive term I can apply).

I know people who do the "eat local" thing, and I applaud them for it. But it just doesn't work for me. Not in a way that would be workable, not in a way that wouldn't mean I eat nothing but beets and cabbage all winter long, or have to worry about whether I'm getting enough vitamin A.

I tend to feel like a lot of people go out of their ways to mention what they're doing, that they see it as a way of promoting themselves as morally superior. (And another thing my faith teaches me: no one is morally superior to anyone else; we are all beloved and worthy but also all sinners. And so the whole "I'm better than you because I use a composting toilet" thing just seems wrong to me.)

I think the biggest thing that bugs me though, is the whole smugness - the whole "we need to impose our lifestyle on yours":

Restaurants, which are mostly out in No Impact, present all sorts of challenges beyond the 250-mile food rule. “They always want to give Isabella the paper cup with the straw, and we have to send it back,” Mr. Beavan said. “We always say, ‘We’re trying not to make any trash.’ And some people get really into that and others clearly think we’re big losers.”

No, let me explain: most waiters and waitresses are heavily overworked, tired, almost dead on their feet, and being told by some Noblesse Oblige patron that they don't WANT a paper cup with a straw because they're "trying not to make any trash" (and where do they think the cup and straw - which have left the kitchen and so are not reusable under health laws - are going to go?) is just another burden on a tired person.

It's like the person who comes to your house for dinner and suddenly announces that they are on the Atkins diet, and are gluten-and-lactose intolerant, and they don't like broccoli, and strawberries give them hives, and is there really something else you could fix them, something macrobiotic?

(I wonder if the couple finds that they don't get invited to friends' houses as often any more. I know there are a few Insane Lifestyle Mentioners in my life that I've largely cut out of any socializing I do, because they CANNOT SHUT UP about their one, single, hobby-horse issue.)

Sometimes you just need to shut up about things. Sometimes there are times when it's not worth enforcing the rules you've imposed on yourself. If it involves creating a large hassle for an otherwise harried person, I tend to think that it's not worth it. It's just being self-centered and setting your own importance over that of another person.

An example: I cannot eat shredded lettuce. I got violently ill off of some (which probably had salmonella or something) some years back, and so now the feel of it in my mouth makes me feel nauseated again. But when I go out to eat somewhere and it's the busy lunch rush, it seems like asking for a "no lettuce if all you have is shreds" sandwich is needlessly complex for the person working the checkstand. So I just order the sandwich and if necessary, remove the lettuce at my seat.

I think the little "exceptions" they permit themselves are interesting, too...like, she still gets to have lipsticks, because they were given free. And they get to "accept gifts." And they got to go on a shopping binge before shutting down their purchasing. (And yet, they tell some poor waitress that their child must have her water served in a re-usable container).

I do think the last sentence of the article summed things up:

“Like all writers, I’m a megalomaniac,” Mr. Beavan said cheerfully the other day. “I’m just trying to put that energy to good use.”

Uh-huh. Megalomaniac. Micromanaging your partner's and your daughter's lives so you can blog about it. Telling waiters and shopkeepers and doormen at great length about what you're doing (with the implication that "you should be doing this too").

I have some megalomaniac tendencies but at least I live alone. And at least I'm out of my own headspace enough to realize that sometimes, someone who's already worked a six hour shift on their feet somewhere doesn't want to hear the minutiae of your lifestyle.

And, I don't know. Maybe I am killing Mother Gaia with my insistence on having a daily cuppa and on running the air conditioning in my house so my asthma doesn't strangle me in my sleep during the summer. But part of life, I think, is enjoying things - and living in a cavelike apartment, eating cabbage, and having to use "a bowl of water and copious air-drying" in place of t.p. seems pretty unenjoyable to me.

As I said earlier: if it makes the couple discussed truly happy, God bless them and keep them. But if they're doing it solely for self-promotion, solely as a way of using their lifestyle as a club to hit other people with, shame on them.