Regional
(2010-04-12)
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FT. COLLINS, CO
(KUNC) -
It's a common site that we often take for granted. The trash inside those cans that line curbsides and pile up at the end of driveways each week has to go somewhere. KUNC commentator Laura Bridgwater isn't a garbologist, but she says the future is crystal clear when she peers into her garbage cans.
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My neighbor and I talk trash.
I don't mean that we sling insults over the fence or brag about whose grass is greener (hers is). We talk trash, as in garbage matters.
In the past year, Michelle switched from a small, curb-side recycling bin to a 95-gallon recycling cart on wheels. She also signed up for a seasonal yard waste can.
But here's the impressive part. She downsized her 95-gallon trash can to a 35-gallon one. Her garbage can looks like it went on Jenny Craig.
When I first saw Michelle roll her skinny can to the curb, I asked my husband, enviously, if he thought we'd ever trade-in our embarrassingly oversized can for a smaller one.
He gave me a look like Oscar the Grouch. I can't blame him. After 19 years of marriage, we knew where this was heading. I'd order a smaller garbage can and he'd be left struggling to close the lid.
But Michelle's not the only neighbor who made the change. It seems each week our daughters point out another Biggest Loser garbage can in the neighborhood.
What surprises me is how excited the girls are to see the new containers. Whereas my generation grew up with the iconic "Crying Indian" public service announcement that now makes roadside litter seem quaint, they are growing up with floating trash islands twice the size of Texas. Garbage matters.
But even before the neighborhood trash overhauls, we had been paying attention to our own garbage because last year we joined a CSA farm. Belonging to the farm meant that every week we brought home grocery sacks of fresh produce. This meant that we also threw away pounds of potential worm food.
So instead of doing the obvious and starting a compost pile, I froze the organic waste. When the freezer became stuffed, I schlepped the icy chunks to a friend's compost heap.
I learned that frozen food is heavy, and it's best to leave the hauling to the professionals.
For Plan B, Michelle offered to share her seasonal yard waste can. After all, plant scraps are plant scraps, whether they come from the hedge or the fridge. But not wanting to overstep the boundaries of being good neighbors, we bit the recycling bill and ordered our own yard waste can.
We solved the problem of vegetable scraps, at least for the time being, and created a new one: where to store a third can.
But peering down into what little of our lives remained in the kitchen garbage pail, we saw only unrecyclable odds and ends like a chip bag, a broken light bulb, the sticker off of an apple, and a medical tape dispenser with a price tag from 1984. That happy news made us think that maybe there was a Project Driveway makeover in our future after all.
However, once the season ended for the yard waste bin, we were back to tossing rinds and peels in the kitchen garbage. Our dream of a model thin can was crushed under the weight of food scraps and the holidays giving new meaning to putting on a few holiday pounds.
Residents of San Francisco, however, no longer have that problem. As of last fall, those Californians are now required by a new ordinance to discard food waste in a compost bin. Seattle, Boston, San Diego, and Pittsburgh, Boulder, Austin,,, have passed similar variations on municipal composting ordinances.
It is a trend that I think will continue, especially as the younger generation leaves home and pays their garbage bills. Our middle-school daughter spends part of her lunch period composting cafeteria food scraps. A high school friend recently started a club dedicated to creating a Zero Waste school. The future is here.
As for the current generation of bill payers, Michelle and I have continued to talk trash. Over the winter she took a trip with her husband. They left their three children home with a family member. Within two days, their trash can was overflowing. Apparently, there's an art to garbage maintenance.
So despite the fact that it's not easy being green, my husband and I are closer to agreeing on a 35-gallon container. As an incentive, our 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. I've made a mental note to look up the appropriate traditional anniversary gift. Is it wood, aluminum, silver or compost?
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