I have a hard time walking around my neighborhood without carrying a trash bag to pick up the occasional piece of garbage in the street. I long for the days of pop-tops that you could wear as a ring. So much more interesting than the lame tabs that break off modern soda cans. Usually it is a cigarette butt from the lawn maintenance crews and Russian maids. But there are plenty of silver foil gum wrappers and pieces of string trimmer line in a rainbow of colors--green, red, and orange. The bottles and cans aren't trash, just recycling that made a break for it to avoid being manhandled by the collectors.
In spring, after the snow melts, there is a veritable smorgasbord (orgasbord) of trash in the gutters. I'm simultaneously repulsed and excited. My kids are equally obsessed, competing to see whose trash bag weighs more. My son collects the bottlecaps. Do the neighbors think we're wierd? Helpful? Fastidious? Critical? Neighborly? Maybe I'll adopt a highway then neglect it. Earth Day was such a letdown. Everyone picks up trash on Earth Day.
posted on Mon, 15 Aug 2005 at 22:58 | path: /thoughts | perma link
