Trash Guilt

With a healthy side of recycling guilt

Photo by Charles Deluvio on Unsplash

The cucumbers were the last straw. “Last straw” probably isn’t the correct term, because, well … straws. So many straws, will we ever see the last one? And, what exactly did I do about it, this “last straw?” Nothing more than march around the house and rant at anyone who was unlucky enough to be in my path.

Three cucumbers, each one wrapped in plastic, snug together in more shrink-wrapped plastic. Giant, individually wrapped cucumbers, wrapped in plastic and then wrapped in more plastic. What could possibly be a reasonable explanation for this? Why is everything shrink-wrapped and wrapped again in the thing that will surely kill us all?

There are giant plastic boxes of salad; plastic gathered around the head of iceberg; romas corralled in a small plastic clamshell. The grapes in their thick, plastic easy-carry bags, the apples and the grapefruit and the potatoes, all in plastic bags. Individually plastic-wrapped candy in a large plastic bag. All tucked into plastic bags at the checkout, and now we’re drowning in plastic.

I have reusable bags and remember them maybe half of the time. We ask for paper and then reuse it for recycling. We recycle all the plastic we can, saving all the bread bags, pasta bags, cucumber wraps, etc. etc. etc., filling the car with it and carting it downtown…