The Beautiful Kind

Note: This post is The Beautiful Kind’s bit for Blog Action Day. Topic - The Environment.

I have paper rabies. Paper rabies, according to Douglas Coupland in his book, Generation X, is “a hypersensitivty to littering.”

Every morning I walk the neighborhood with a bag and pick up after litterbugs. I HAVE to. It’s one of my obsessions to pick up at least one piece of trash a day. Also it helps keep the neighborhood decent, like how Malcolm Gladwell points out in The Tipping Point.

There’s something called the Broken Windows theory - some behavior is stimulated by the environment. If people see trash lying around, they’ll feel it’s acceptable to contribute to the trash. Monkey see, monkey do. The theory is based on the premise that “an epidemic can be reversed by tinkering with the smallest details of the immediate environment.” So who knows, maybe picking up one bag of trash a day will help more than just superficially.

One of the benefits of trash patrol, besides getting exercise, finding pennies and dimes, indulging in my desire to multi-task, seeing which houses are for sale, checking out people’s gardens and holiday displays, taking in nature and fresh air, smelling people’s breakfasts and laundry, is I like spying on the neighbors and their habits. I am the SUPER SPY of the neighborhood.

I know about the family who eats Velveeta and Oreos, the woman who wears hairpieces, the family whose kid finally outgrew the Fisher Price Floor Gym.

There are a couple houses that always have more trash in their yard - a sure sign that they have no pride. And what’s with the house with fifty potted plants on the back porch? And how come I never see anyone in the yard that has the most STUFF in it - does he or she put out the wind chimes, pink flamingos, boats, driftwood sculptures, and rock gardens at night?

Most of the trash I pick up is of fast food or smoking nature. LOTS of White Castle and GPC and Kool cigarettes. And oh my god the water and soda bottles. I like spying on the receipts I find (Dr. Pepper, Chex Mix, and a Milky Way - dinner!) and notes from kids waiting for the bus (“Amber, OMG you scared me I thought you were Amanda out to stalk me!!!”)

One early morning I saw a guy walk stiffly and quickly out of a house and by his body language and refusal to make eye contact, I knew he didn’t belong there and was doing the Walk of Shame. I KNEW the person-he-fucked-last-night’s husband was out of town.

And I wish the guy at the end of the street would stop tossing his spent lottery tickets on the street so that the whole neighborhood can see what a fucking loser he is.

It’d be nice if a couple other people in the neighborhood would go on trash patrol too, or be in charge of their own yard, or, better yet, if people would quit throwing their shit out the window like monkeys flinging poo at the zoo. FUCK.

But hey, we’re all monkeys. Check it out. And now I’m off for my walk.