The curious controversy of recycling

In our household, we're huge believers in recycling ("recyclists?"). Oh, sure, I wasn't always that way, just like so many others. Sometimes it just seemed easier to pitch a plastic bottle or can than re-purpose it elsewhere. But common sense, not to mention common decency caught up to me. If we're not gonna take care of our world, who will? Just makes sense, right?

But not everyone feels the same way these days.

A couple years ago, my wife and I visited Iquitos, Peru. It was agonizing to see the townsfolk walking down the street, tossing trash cavalierly onto the ground. Abandoned debris literally decorated sidewalks and streets. Of course Iquitos is a third-world "jungle city" with nary a recycling bin in sight, but come on! These folks pride themselves on being newly "civilized." Such is the price of mass civilization, I suppose. At least they all had satellite dishes and killer knock-off Nike kicks.

Yet when this practice of refusing to recycle comes to my front door, I take umbrage. Umbrage, I tell you!

Case in point number one... A week ago I found myself in a large group setting (more on this in a later blog; same bat-time, same bat-channel). The pretty, pretty princess in front of me turned around, regally held out her empty designer water bottle and said, "Stuart...would you throw this away for me, please?" I hadn't sat next to the trash can to hall monitor everyone's trash prowess, but it soon fell upon me to do so.

I snatched the bottle, loudly said, "No, I will not." Appalled, pretty, pretty princess's jaw dropped, clearly not used to anyone denying her regal way. But I continued anyway. "I will, however, take it home and recycle it for you."

The class roared. One guy shouted, "good for you!" I was earth's superhero for one second. Yet the pretty, pretty princess sat down, mortified. Yes, I'd saved Mother Earth, but at the cost of recycle-shaming my classmate. (Psst...it was worth it and I'd do it all over again).

Which brings me to the curious case of (let's call him) "Dougie." A while back I was visiting my daughter. A friend, with new boyfriend "Dougie" in tow, dropped by for a visit. Dougie was an amiable enough lunkhead of sorts, prone to power chugging beer and talking about himself. He also had a remarkable talent for working in six eff-bombs into every sentence. It's a talent, I tell you.

Anyway, after his nineteenth beer, Dougie gathered his fallen tin soldiers and asked me (he ignored my daughter even though it was her house; chivalry's dead) where the trash is. I said, "Oh, we recycle cans. There's a bin in the kitchen."

Dougie scoffed, wagged his head, and muttered, "Recycling's stupid."

My daughter went into the kitchen and caught Dougie pouring the recycling bin's contents into her trash.

Had I known this at the time, I would've said something since I am my earth's keeper. But, I didn't find out about it until later.

But...wow. Just, wow. As much as I admired Dougie's true talent for clever cursing, he'd just entered my "Most Wanted Recyclist's Terrorist" list. First of all, who in the world goes into someone's house and screws around with their trash? Second, I know some people are lazy, but actually saying "recycling is stupid" just boggles my mind. How could anyone possibly justify such a mystifying and stultifyingly stupid statement?

So, trashers of the world, beware! I'm on the watch. I will have no problem recycle shaming you in public. Don't get on my bad side!

Speaking of bad sides, there's plenty of bad behavior in my short story collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley. We're talking mean, misanthropic, violent old women; racists; mafiosos; a self-centered pretty, pretty princess; a delusional murderer; and many more. Oh, there are some REAL monsters, too.