Was a little brisk to police the neighborhood today, but I was out earlier in the week with the unseasonably warm weather. I thought I had blogged about my habit / custom of picking up the neighborhood, but I see that Facebook sucked that particular energy out of me. So I thought I'd collect some social media musings here in only place . . .
Jan 14, 2013: On nice days like today I grab my litter pick-up tool ($1.99 at Harbor
Freight) go pick up trash outside. It makes me feel better about my
place and the neighborhood, and I'm all set for a chain gang / community
service if it ever comes to that
Oct 9, 2015: Heading out for my periodic policing of the neighborhood trash. Taking a
big bag today because I know there's at least one pizza box out there. #hardhitten #newbritain
Mar 17, 2016: One of my little foibles is patrolling my neighborhood, picking up
litter. I have a little litter-picker-upper stick (Harbor Freight) and
generally pick up a grocery store bag worth of junk 2-3x a week.
was definitely an inspiration; walking my dog one day and feeling
particularly punk about the condition of the area, I got one of those
divine hits - who else is going to do it? Me, apparently.....
April 18, 2016: Dear Residents of Planet Earth:
If you are out hiking and eating an apple and chuck the core into the woods, that's cool. We'll take care of it.
If however, you eat an apple every day at lunchtime while you are walking around the neighborhood, take two bites, and chuck the mostly
uneaten fruit under the same tree every single day so there's a dozen or so uneaten apples rotting....not cool. Such behavior will be duly noted
on your permanent record.
Love, the Management
Dec 31, 2016: In other news, I took a real garbage bag out to do my regular neighborhood litter patrol this morning. I usually can get by with a small grocery store bag, but things had piled up between the snow, the holiday, and my attention being elsewhere. Neighborhood is officially cleaned up in time for 2017....
Now, I am fairly certain that my litter picking had it's roots in the humor of David Sedaris, although my routine predates this New Yorker article - Stepping Out: Living the Fitbit Life. I am, however, a somewhat obsessive listener of public radio that I am sure I'd heard David talk about his own litter picking, planting the seeds of my own habits.
I clearly recall the moment I started - walking the dog, noticing a rather trashed neighborhood of bottles, fast food trash, and other detritus, and thinking somewhat disdainfully "Whose job is it to pick this stuff up?". The answer came back swift and sure in that voice I've come to recognize as my own divine nature "Yours."
And so I venture out once a week or so - as time and weather and need dictate - with an inexpensive pick-up stick and a small plastic bag, and pick up the neighborhood litter. It may have started incrementally - policing the condo property when I took over as president, and expanding outward - now I've got about 1500 feet of city street I consider my turf.
It's a lower middle class neighborhood with a couple of manufacturing facilities - so I get a mix of household trash (fast food, kids meals), smoking material (packaging, cigarette and cigar butts), a reasonably frequent stream of liquor bottles (nips and 500 ml, mostly), and a smattering of soda, beer, and other beverage containers.
I don't recycle stuff (sorry, I have my limits, at least it's off the street), I tend to leave anything natural (including pet waste, branches, apple cores, etc.), and I wander down in front of the nearby apartments only on weekdays (when the tenants cars are not on the street) and when I have room in my bag (tends to be a lot of litter down that way).
I'm sure the neighbors think I'm crazy or scrounging for deposit containers. Although one guy walking his daughter did say simply "thank-you" recently. I have to say it makes me feel better about where I live; and I do scan my turf as I drive to and from home for fresh litter and make a mental note to get out for a clean-up.
The biggest challenge for me is to send metta, loving kindness, to the folks for whom I am cleaning - the residents, tenants, homeowners, factory workers, and random passersby whose litter I am picking up. It's interesting to watch my mind try to descend into judgement, stereotypes, disdain. On my bad days the dialogue goes like this "the human beings are kind of pigs; glad I'm not one of them". On my good days, still that separation, but more kindness and love - like a mother cleaning up after her kids.