Something New: A Month Without Trash

I want to let you guys know that I'm going forward with my trash "experiment." It will begin on July 1. I'm putting the first post on this blog, but for those of you who want to know more, you will have to click on this link to go to my other blog, which is called Sans Trash: http://www.sanstrash.blogspot.com. For once, I ought to be posting every day. But the posts won't be here, they will be there. Enjoy. And please, let me know what you think.

The Background

Yesterday was trash pickup day in the suburban neighborhood where I drop off my son for daycare. At eight o'clock in the morning, the streets were lined with tall, black garbage cans, if "cans" is your euphimism of choice. The truth is, we have changed from people who throw away small cans of garbage each week into people who discard huge tubs of it. As I drove along, the ugly black bins looked like grotesque cavities in the mouth of the neatly groomed street. I felt like wretching.

Not to say that I'm a trash-free saint. I have no holier-than-thou perspective: I am far too familiar with trash. I've spent my entire existence living in the boondocks where I am forced to pack out what I bring in. Loading my small Honda with a week's worth (or sometimes more) of stinky trash is a wretched experience, too. It's just that I'm not used to considering everyone else's garbage. As prim and polite as the department of sanitation tries to be, I know what's stuffed inside those boxes, or sometimes bulging out over the top.

As I passed the rows of shiny, black sentinels on the curbside, I realized that there were probably two hundred homes in this one neighborhood alone. Each house, and I mean each house, was discarding four or five full-sized hefty bags of trash. So this means that one thousand bags were collected in less than a few hours. One thousand bags! In one tiny truck in one small neighborhood of one little city! In one quick morning of one short year! If you take the time to think about it, as I'm sure you have, the figures are astounding, disheartening, and honestly, a little hard to believe. To give you an idea, the waste generated each year in the U.S. alone would fill a convoy of 10-ton garbage trucks 145,000 miles long -- over half-way to the moon. 1

Here are some more incredible facts about garbage:

--By the time a baby born today in the United States reaches age 75, he or she will have produced 52 tons of garbage. 2

--For packaging (cans, bottles, cartons, etc.) alone, the U.S. uses approximately:50% of its paper75% of its glass40% of its aluminum and30% of its plastics. 3

--A person in the U.S. causes 100 times more damage to the global environment than a person in a poor country. 4

--Most Europeans produce less than half the waste per person than the average American. 5

--This means that most Europeans are discarding less than 2 pounds of trash per day, while Americans are averaging about four pounds of trash per day.6

Have you seen video footage of the dump on Staten Island? This is NYC's landfill. From outerspace, it is visible to the naked eye. It is taller than the statue of liberty and covers 2,200 acres (3.5 square miles). It is just one of thousands of landfills in the United States alone.

It's easy to look at these facts and feel your stomach start to turn. Damn those people! you want to scream. But seeing as how you're not exempt from the human race, it's not likely you will be so rash. Your outrage quickly melts into an Oh, that's too bad, What a shame, or This is so depressing: I need to go shopping NOW! I know, because it happens to me. Most days, I contribute my four pound share of chemically-laden, energy-wasting trash into a big putrid hole in the earth which is conveniently located far, far away from my home. I've done my share of close-your-eyes-and-never-think-about-it-again.

But the truth is, this adolescent behavior is irresponsible, stupid, and pathetic. As adults, we know that such short-term, hedonistic, responsibility-shirking behavior leads only down the path of ruin. We've learned from life experience: if you don't feed the bird, the bird dies. If you don't keep your bike out of the rain, it rusts. If you don't go to work, you'll be fired.

Funny how we don't seem to be heeding these lessons when it comes to the earth: if you don't take care of your habitat, you'll be left without one.

I've never been much of anything in my life. I've always been more a type of person who has a lot of ideas, but ends up just "going with the flow." My point is that while I call myself an environmentalist in the loosest of terms (meaning yes, I do care about the environment and find the term "tree-hugger" rather endearing) I have not been an environmental activist of any sort. I've signed a few petitions here and there: save our wetlands, ban off-shore oil drilling, save the rainforest. But these actions amount to nothing more than pathetic little yawns when it comes to the rate at which we are allowing our thoughtless lifestyles to destroy our beautiful planet.

With a little forethought, we, as a nation, could change our lifestyles to ones that leave the least amount of impact on our earth. It would be the progressive thing to do. It would be the right thing to do. It would be the responsible thing to do.


The Mission


The mission of this experiment is to raise awareness about our currently irresponsible way of life. If you begin to question the status-quo, make one or two small changes to your lifestyle, become aware of and support "green" companies, join a sustainability organization, or have a conversation with a friend about how to live a more responsible lifestyle, then this site has accomplished its mission.


The Experiment


For one month, I will try to live without producing any trash. Recycling and compost will be allowable, but an attempt will be made to keep recycling to a minimum since it requires more of the earth's energy and resources than composting. I will keep a log of all trash that is unable to be recycled or composted. I will try to buy only post-consumer (already recycled) materials. My goal is to produce less than one pound of trash for the entire month.Changes will be made to my lifestyle, including how I shop, what I purchase, how I eat, how I take care of personal hygiene, how I plan my diet, and things, I am sure, that I haven't even yet accounted for. I will log all of my emotions and personal frustrations, the things that were easy and things that were difficult, my moments of desperation and moments of triumph.Wish me luck!

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1 Jeremy Rifkin, Ed., The Green Lifestyle Handbook (New York: Henry Holt & Company, 1990), p. 54.
2 Sandy Bauers, "Study: Save Earth; Have Fewer Children," Philadelphia Inquirer, January 17, 1990.
3 John Travis, Global Wellness Inventory (Mill Valley, CA: Wellness Associates, 1990), p. 6.
4 Dianne Dumanoski, "The People Problem," The Boston Globe, February 5, 1990, citing Paul Ehrlich.
5 "Sustainability: T he Global Challenge," ZPG Backgrounder (Washington, D.C.: Zero Population Growth). (References 1-5 were found on a website called "All-Consuming Passion." Check them out: http://www.scn.org/earth/lightly/karvsacp.htm)
6 www.csun.edu/~vceed002/BFI/waste_stats.html

Issac and his "girlfriend," Ellie. Holding hands. Being adorable. 

Something Big and Something Small...

So I started a new job. In sales. Selling. Which is fun when people want to buy, but not fun when people don't. It's fun when I make $500 in one day, but not fun when I go a week without a sale. It's fun when I get to set my own schedule (I've been setting aside a few hours of "me" time every week to hit the gym-- in a few months, I'm gonna look like J-Lo. Just wait.)

Apart from battling the "sleazy salesman" image, I like what I do. I find it challenging and exciting to approach people and determine ways in which I can help them. When a match exists between my services (credit card processing) and their needs (the best rates), everybody wins. But it also gets exhausting hearing "no" so often. It's cut-throat out there. There is really an art to getting through to people--to saying the right things at the right times. It takes a lot of energy to maintain an exuberant attitude all day long, but this is something that I aspire to anyways.

Which brings me to discuss my aspirations. This is not what I want to do with my life. I want to do *BIG* things. I want to do things that *REALLY MAKE A DIFFERENCE.* I do not want to sell rates on credit card processing services.

So why am I doing it? It's convenient. It's flexible. It pays the bills. And it is training me for whatever it is that I am going to do next. In the big picture, I think this sales background is really going to pull through for me. I can see it affecting my future when I *OWN MY OWN BUSINESS, AM A WORLD DIPLOMAT, AM NEGOTIATING HIGH-PAYING CONTRACTS, ETC.*

Clouds and Bees


Issac and I went on a walk today, and I took lots of pictures. I accidentally erased them, though, later. I will never be able to duplicate those pictures exactly as I saw them. Oh well--it was still good for my soul to look through the lens of a camera and frame beauty.

Zhenya, my new roommate, will be moving in tomorrow.

I'm thinking of starting a new blog. As though starting a new blog could somehow refresh my writing, which, to my mind, is suffering from both staleness and lack of risk. I've been chosing to censure what I write. Why? I'm not exactly sure. But I don't like it, and censure is mostly the reason why I haven't been writing, and why, when I have, it hasn't been so fun.

I think a large answer to this question of why I've been censuring myself has a lot to do with the fact that I've been going through some serious introspection lately. Who am I? Who do I want to be? What exactly about myself do I want to reveal?

The truth is, it's becoming hard for me to publicly admit defeat, my shortcomings and fallibilities. Is there something growing in me that wasn't there before, such as a sense of privacy? I've never known this feeling before.

I've had some real adventures these past few months, but I wouldn't whisper them into just anyone's ear. Maybe these stories need time to become less raw, less real. Then I could write about it and say, "I once..." and it will be casual, entertaining, because the happy end, the resolution, will be in sight. Readers will forgive my rashness, naivete, selfishness, or other immoral act that peppers and propels the story. The girl in the story will no longer be the girl telling the story. Nobody will think of me.

The thick storm-clouds I saw on my walk today looked like purple velvet. Still, the sun glowed behind the dark bustles, illuminating the edges, a shining gold foil. The air was damp and the ground smelled earthy. Coming up the lane toward the back-end of our neighbor's farm, we heard a buzzing sound. High up in an oak tree was a hole, filled with swarming bees. They were flocked all over the bark so that the tree looked like it was alive, and there was a cloud of them floating around the branches. I wondered if there was honey in the hole, and thought of Pooh coating himself in mud--"they shall think I am a rain-cloud"--and hoisting himself up to the bees with Christopher Robin's balloon.

I mentioned it to my neighbor, Sally, as we picked blueberries with the kids. She said she would tell her husband to "take care of it--he's allergic to bees." While I don't want him to have an allergic reaction to the bees, it makes me sad to imagine disposing of my little honey-tree. Is nothing sacred anymore? Not even a little honey-bee-tree?