I think we all do that sometimes

Beth is away at a three-and-a-half day meditation retreat. She goes on these about twice a year, at a convent in Marin County called Santa Sabina, and they're very good for her, if only because she spends a large part of the time she's supposed to be meditating sleeping, and she desperately needs some sleep after staying up till dawn most days writing this blog.

In her absence, I'll be writing today's post. Who am I? Her husband, Michael. If you've been reading this blog regularly, you'll have seen mention of me. I also comment fairly frequently under the name "terrible person", which is a name I used to use on a local BBS back in the 90's. This was actually where Beth and I first encountered each other and attracted each other's interest. You've got to hand it to a woman who would be interested in a guy who calls himself "terrible person". But then, you should have seen the things *she* was writing. But I digress. All the time, in fact. Anyway, this feels a little like one of those "Family Circus" comic strips in which cartoonist Bil Keane purports to have let his eternally three-year-old son Billy fill in and draw.

People sometimes ask me, and ask Beth, "What is it like for Michael? How does he feel about your efforts to make people aware of the pervasiveness and dangers of plastic, and to reduce, reuse, and recycle around the house that you share?"

Well, it's not always easy. But I think it's worth it. First of all, Beth spends an extraordinary amount of time on this blog. I hope you all appreciate how hard she works on it, all while working three and a half days a week as a bookkeeper. It would be so great if she did not have to work, or could make this her job, so that she could devote herself to this full-time. Of course, part of the reason Beth stays up all night working on this blog is that she simply likes staying up all night. She's nocturnal. Some people are. (Me, I like to get up before six a.m. and go running or swimming. And I zonk out around eleven.) And Beth tends to immerse herself totally in one activity at a time, for a few months to a year. This involves reading everything she can on the subject, buying all the equipment needed for it, keeping accurate statistics (arranged in spreadsheets, or reported on a blog) of her progress with it, etc., most of this done late at night. Before plastic, it was running. Before running, it was knitting, or watching movies. So it's not as if I saw that much more before she started FPF, so I can't really blame it. Besides, it's important. To her, but also to the world.

I keep thinking that eventually, Beth will get tired of blogging about plastic, and move on to something else. I mean, we're getting two kittens soon! Who would want to blog when there are kittens to play with? But this time, I think it might be different. I think Beth will stick with the plastics project for a while. A big reason for that is the feedback she receives from you. Having consistent readers, who really care what she has to say, really means a lot to her and encourages her.

Besides the time she spends researching and writing about plastic, and sorting it out at home, there's the other issue. Beth has set herself very firm rules about the use of products made from plastic or packaged in it (as well as the use of many other commercial products, such as household cleaners.) Beth constantly asserts that her rules are only for herself. But it can be hard to live with someone observing such rules without being affected by them.

Let me say, though, that I have never been a huge user of plastic. I don't buy a lot of take-out food, or packaged food: I tend to eat a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables. I'm not a typical American consumer. I've never owned a car; I use my bicycle, my feet, or public transportation. (Well, I get a free ride to work in the "casual carpool" -- but that's just too convenient to pass up.) But I have my own reasons for many of these behaviors. I can't stand waste. I can't stand to see usable stuff thrown out: food, clothing, petroleum. Time, for that matter. Especially when there is an advantage in conserving, such as saving money. I pick up plastic bottles on the street, because every few months, I bring a big bag of them to the recycling center and get a few bucks back in redemption money. Redemption! I used to drink out of polycarbonate bottles, until I learned about leaching and outgassing. So in general, I see Beth's efforts to reduce plastic use in our house as something very positive, that will improve my health, and I'm glad for it.

Sometimes, though, plastic is just so convenient. I like to eat cottage cheese - it's all in plastic tubs. They're recyclable, but recycling is a poor alternative to avoiding use in the first place. And when I've broken down and bought something plastic, and I come home with it, and Beth seems so disappointed and disapproving, as if I've brought pork into a Kosher home, and tells me, in case I bought it to share, that she will not be partaking, it can be very frustrating, and guilt-inducing. But then, I think how it must be for her. She's trying so hard to reduce plastic use. And here is *her husband*, who of all people should be supporting her, bringing plastic into the house, ruining her attempts to bring her consumption to zero, totally throwing off her statistics -- but more than that, doing something that is bad for the environment, and bad for me.

The reason I can understand this is that I experience it myself. I work at a large law firm, as a librarian. The attorneys work very hard, and make a lot of money. The staff, especially the secretaries, also work very hard, and don't make anywhere near what the lawyers make. The firm provides all sorts of refreshments to keep us going, hard at work: coffee, soda, granola bars (individually wrapped), packets of instant oatmeal, etc. Attorney meetings are typically held over lunch, which is ordered from local caterers, in individual plastic containers or big plastic trays. The bottom floor of our high-rise building, and the surrounding downtown San Francisco neighborhood, is full of takeout restaurants, from which people are always ordering, often in styrofoam boxes, because they don't have time to make their own food. We have water coolers that dispense wonderful filtered, chilled tap water (not from big polycarbonate bottles), but most people drink the individual bottles the firm also provides. What this means is that there is a huge amount of waste being generated in our offices. And this drives me nuts.

Unfortunately, the argument that I use on myself to conserve, saving money, doesn't work at a place where the attorneys bill six hundred or more dollars an hour to put together multimillion dollar deals. Reduction, reuse, and recycling are very low priorities. Part of it is apathy: people just don't care enough to use real dishes and metal cutlery instead of paper bowls and plastic forks, or to actually think for a moment, before tossing their waste, whether it goes in the recycling bin or the trash, or actually to read the signs placed on the waste bins indicating what should go in each. Someone else will clean it up. But perhaps even worse is the other part, ignorance. People just don't know. They don't understand that food-soiled paper can't be recycled, or that most plastic can't be either, so they toss it in with the recycling, contaminating it and likely rendering it unsellable, all the while congratulating themselves on having done their part. And I sometimes get really angry at this. But then I remember, these people work very hard all day. They have long commutes; they have children, parents, themselves to take care of. Sometimes, you just can't think about what you're doing. I know this, because I don't always. *I* get tired, *I* find myself in a hurry, *I* just want to be able to have my food or my drink and not have to get up and go to the kitchen and clean my mug or my bowl and fill it up ... And I'm like this when I'm shopping for home, too, or when I'm there.

Back in 1987, when I was in college, I worked as a bike messenger in Boston. One of my fellow messengers was a guy, a kid really, probably not even eighteen, named Matt Cook, and he was completely nuts. He rode broken-down three-speeds, each lasting a few weeks before it collapsed or he crashed it, faster than I could go on my new mountain bike. In social situations, his contributions to conversations took the form of one comment, an unchanging rejoinder to any utterance by anyone else: "I think we *all* do that sometimes." No matter what anyone said, that would be his response, relevant or not. The funny thing was, sometimes it would be incredibly relevant. It would be exactly what needed to be said. And then it was so nice to be able to count on him to say it.

The point is, we're all on a continuum. I use far less plastic than the people with whom I work, than most Americans. Beth uses far less plastic than I do. But even she slips occasionally, for instance, if I buy Haig's hummus. Or this continuum has many dimensions. Beth may use less plastic than I, but I never rent cars. Whatever. The important thing to remember is that, as Matt Cook would say ... well, you know. It's not a competition. And none of us will be perfect. It's just important for each of us to do as much as he or she can. The more a person does, the better it will be for him- or herself and the world. Beth understands that I'm trying. I understand that *she's* trying.

I had hoped to discuss some other issues, and to include some photos in this post, and polish up the writing a bit more, but it's getting late and I need to get to bed so I can get up and swim a mile and a half tomorrow morning and then go to work and organize my colleagues to put on a performance at the firm's annual holiday party. So I'll be signing off, hoping this was coherent and senseful. But I want you all to know how much I appreciate your support of Beth, and how much *she* appreciates it. I wish you all good luck, and an enjoyable late fall/early winter, and I'll look forward to reading your comments.

 

Of Water and Weirdness

I tabled at Temescal again on Sunday, this time wearing a different shirt. A "Think Outside The Bottle" shirt, to be exact. And instead of tabling as me, an Oakland resident who simply wanted to encourage other Oakland residents to give up plastic bags, I represented an organization. Wow, was that a different experience. It kind of reminded me of my early days canvassing for Clean Water Action. We had an agenda, and a quota, and a "script." Except this time, we were looking for volunteers rather than monetary contributions.

And while I totally support The World Water Challenge's goals (encouraging mayors in 7 cities to cancel bottled water contracts and support local tap water), I think that at 42 I'm a little too independent-minded to fit into the organizational mold. So I'll be going to the "kick-off meeting" on Wednesday. But I'm not sure I'll table for this group again.

On my way home, I passed along College Avenue where the Rockridge Street Fair was in full-swing. And I happened upon the booth of my city council-person, Jane Brunner, "manned" by her assistant, Maria. What an opportunity! I spoke to Maria about recycling in Oakland, asking why Oakland can't recycle wide-mouthed containers, like San Francisco does. And she said, "I thought we did! I always put my yogurt containers in the recycling."

This is what I'm talking about! How can anyone be expected to get it right when even our city representatives don't know what the rules are?!?! So I explained to her the ins and outs of Oakland recycling (which she confirmed with her friend who was walking by), gave her my card, and asked her to please get back to me. I'm not going to give up until I get a good explanation. If San Francisco can recycle their yogurt and cottage cheese and pudding containers, why can't Oakland?

As the day drew to a close, Michael and I BARTed into San Francisco to see his favorite band, They Might Be Giants, at the historic Fillmore Auditorium. Hungry from all my morning and afternoon activism, I looked at the menu in the Fillmore's upstairs cafe and attempted a plastic-free meal. How could you go wrong with a garden burger? The only plastic-free beverage was bottled beer. I ordered a Guinness.

The garden burger arrived with 3 plastic condiment packets, which I handed back, and an unexpected plastic cup of salsa to go with a handful of unexpected tortilla chips. See, this is what happens when you assume instead of asking ahead of time what comes with a meal. Fortunately, our server was happy to take back the salsa cup, confirming that she would reuse it, and even said, "I love that you're like this." An unexpected weird little compliment. I'll take it!

There were recycling bins throughout the Fillmore for cans and bottles. Unfortunately, most of the drinks come in big plastic cups, which are not accepted in the recycle bins. It boggles the mind to think of just how many plastic cups are tossed out every night. But once the music started, my mind let go of plastic and garbage and recycling issues for a few hours. It was a relief to just be. And fun to see how happy this nerdy band can make people. How often in this crazy world do you find people rocking out to songs about famous painters and historical figures and physics?

I think every crusade needs a little levity. Don't you agree?
 

 

My Disney Adventure, Part 2: Eating & Sleeping

As I mentioned in Part 1 of My Disney Adventure, I rushed to reserve transportation and accommodations at the last minute without planning ahead. This is not recommended.

LODGING:

If I had done some research, I might have found a more eco-friendly place to stay. Instead, I went for availability and price, booking a room at the Alamo Inn & Suites on Katella Ave simply because it had the best rates through Hotels.com.

On the plus side, the hotel is located just across the street from Disneyland, so no driving is required to get to the park. As far as I can tell, that is the only environmental plus. And since there are so many other hotels also within walking distance, there's sure to be another with a better eco-philosophy.

Now, here are a few negatives:

• Coffee service in the lobby with Styrofoam cups and plastic stirrers.


• Plastic drinking cups in the room.


• Plastic-lined waste cans in the rooms and no means of recycling.


• Plastic packets of shampoo and lotion in the room. And even though we never opened and used the packets, each day the staff brought us more!


• Old air conditioning units in the walls that had to be run continuously in order to keep the room from becoming an oven.

We tried to gather recyclables (newspapers, tourist info, glass bottles) in a paper bag and find a place to recycle them, but while we were out, the cleaning staff threw out our bag with the rest of the garbage, even though we hadn't put it in the waste can. When I asked the hotel desk clerk if there was a way to recycle or if items from guest waste cans are separated out for recycling, she helpfully answered, "No. We just dump it all out."

After that incident, I resolved to save any recyclables in my backpack and bring them back to Oakland. As it turns out, I could have taken them into Disneyland with me. Disneyland is one of the few businesses in Anaheim with a robust recycling program. In fact, there are bins for paper and bottles throughout the park. I'll talk more about Disneyland's environmental pluses and minuses in my next post.

So how could I have found a more pro-environment hotel beforehand? Fortunately, there's a great site, Environmentally Friendly Hotels.Com, which is an ongoing database of hotels throughout the world rated using a checklist of 33 environmental criteria. Users can browse the site to look for hotel ratings, and they can also post reviews and add listings to the database.

Looking at the Anaheim page, it turns out that the hotels in Disneyland itself are the most eco-friendly. Unfortunately, they are also out of my price range. But I could have used the checklist itself as a guide for what to ask before making a reservation. There are many more hotels in Anaheim than are listed on this site. The site also offers a form that you can print out and take with you to evaluate a property during your stay.

DINING:

Eating healthfully and plastic-free was another challenge. Anaheim, Orange County for that matter, consists of street after street of fast food and chain restaurants. I don't think I've ever seen so many McDonald's restaurants in one place. There is a Farmer's Market in Anaheim, but it only operates on Thursday mornings. We arrived on Friday.

So our first night, Michael and I found a Vons Supermarket (part of the Safeway chain) and purchased produce and bread, which we stored in the small refrigerator in our room. Being a little disoriented from traveling, I left my backpack, which always contains a supply of reused plastic bags, in the hotel, so we were going to need a paper bag. Little did we know, Vons in Anaheim does not have paper grocery bags anymore! Plastic is the only option offered at the checkout counter. Michael was preparing to carry everything out in his shirt, when we spied some thin paper bags near the bakery case, which were meant for bread and bagels. They did the job for us. Next time I'll remember to bring my own bags, I swear!

One ecologically-friendly option is Native Foods, a vegan restaurant, but you have to drive thirteen miles to Costa Mesa to eat there. It was on our way to the beach on Saturday, so we stopped in. Native Foods is located in a shopping complex called The Camp, which is a mix of outdoor stores, natural product retailers, and unique restaurants set among native plant gardens and outdoor gathering places. It's a tiny bit of "green" in Orange County. A very tiny bit.

Up the street from our hotel was a little Mexican restaurant called Tacos Mi Pueblo, where I had some of the best vegetarian burritos of my life. I'm sure the secret ingredient must have been lard. But I felt better eating there than at the chains because the food was authentic and the restaurant small and locally-owned. I did end up with a couple of straws when I wasn't paying attention.

I've found that my main challenge for remaining plastic-free while eating in restaurants is remembering to specify, "no straw." In take-out places where everything is served in disposable containers, it's not hard to remember to specify, "no lid, no straw," and if I'm getting a cold coffee drink, "paper cup." But in a sit-down restaurant where everything on the table is made from durable materials, those ubiquitous straws leap out of nowhere and catch me with my guard down. If the straw is still wrapped in paper, I can send it back. But if the server has kindly unwrapped it for me, I'm screwed.

While I'm pretty happy drinking without a straw, I realize it's sometimes easier to use one. Especially for cold drinks with ice. For those who really want to use a straw, there are plastic-free options:

• Stainless steel drinking straws. If you can carry your own reusable water bottle and cutlery, why not carry your own reusable straws?


• Biodegradable Straws. These are made from cornstarch. If it were me, I'd opt for a reusable product over a disposable one, but biodegradable is better than plastic.


• Paper Straws, the old-fashioned kind. If you want a bit of nostalgia, you can still find paper straws in antique shops for a pretty price.


• Paper drinking straws, the new kind. Aardvark, the company that invented paper drinking straws, is still making them. Now, however, the straws are coated with something that makes them waterproof. I don't know what the coating is, so I'm not recommending them until I find out. I did send an e-mail to the company and will let you know when I hear back.

I guess the main idea I want to stress when it comes to reducing plastic waste while staying in hotels or dining out is to plan ahead. Whether traveling or at home, I find I run into the biggest challenges when I haven't planned what I'll eat and where and haven't left the house prepared. Being tired and hungry makes me much less mindful about what I'm consuming. Procrastination seems to be plastic's best friend.