When the garbage is on the other foot
CultureMap's recycling tyrant commits an environmental sin
We’ve reached week three in our (sometimes excruciating) effort to turn the CultureMap office into a green office and after discussing everyone else’s struggle with change, it's time to expose my own. Cue the cheesy confessional reality TV music.
I recently discovered a milk allergy and bring soy and coconut milk to the office. Cleaning out cartons is a little trickier than rinsing out Coke cans (removing the milk takes longer and it then needs to air dry), so at the end of my milk, I decided to take it home for recycling rather than do it in the office building bathroom. (Yes, CultureMap's anti-trek-riniser extraordinaire Shelby Hodge is surely flashing a triumphant smile at this).
Of course, the day I decided to put off my recycling rinsing, I wasn't going straight home. I had an appointment in the Heights, where I was also supposed to meet up with my housemate who would provide my ride home (I’m stubbornly car-less right now).
I caught a taxi, to the Heights, empty, smelly, coconut milk carton in hand. Sat through my appointment, empty milk carton still in hand. My roommate cancelled so I trekked to the bus station, empty milk carton my constant companion. At this point, I’d been toting the carton around town for two hours — the epitome of dedication (or so I'd like to tell myself).
I made it downtown for my bus exchange and realized I was lost. I pulled out my iPhone and with the help of AT&T's sketchy service, I got even more lost as I tried to follow my blue dot on the iMap.
Trying to navigate my iPhone, carry my purse, jacket, documents from my appointment and an empty, smelly coconut milk carton, I realized something had to give. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I'd found my green limit!
I stuffed that empty, smelly coconut milk carton right into the nearest trash bin.
It’s a ridiculous scenario. While reading this story, CultureMap managing editor Chris Baldwin remarked, "That's the most long, drawn-out dog-ate-my-homework recycling excuse tale ever told in the history of mankind. Just admit recycling stinks and be done with it."
Obviously, Chris still needs some work.
Still, my guilt is greater.
It was just one carton, but “just one carton"s add up. The inconvenience it would cost me to deal with it properly, is really the same inconvenience that prevents people from rinsing Coke cans, or using the trash instead of the recycling center. Obviously, I also have a ways to go on this.
The bloodshed
Quick report on the rest of the office — it turns out we're bleeding to be green — literally. Chris cut his finger while rinsing out a Pepsi Throwback can and and he now thinks that recycling is also dangerous. I did the same thing two days prior. I showed Chris my larger wound, thinking this would quickly extinguish any grounds for complaint. I was wrong.
Despite the evident dangers in recycling, we're all supporting Chris as he tries to overcome his fear and return to the green and narrow. I'm sure he'll lead the charge to put some policies in place to prevent this kind of disaster from ever happening again.
There is encouraging news though. Clifford Pugh — our fearless Editor-in-Chief — volunteered to take our recycling to the drop-off center this week. Even if Clifford needed directions to the place and even if Chris is convinced that the boss was simply guilted into it by Chris' charge that Clifford is in fact, "a recycling impostor," it's a significant step. I'm sure my near compatriot in recycling zeal (with the exception that no one seems bothered by him) columnist Steven Thomson recycled all the way on his drive to California for the Coachella Music Festival too.
CultureMapper Nic Phillips is wondering why no one has shown any initiative in getting the broken light switch in the office fixed that's resulting in so much wasted energy. Phillips notes that all it would take is someone making the effort to pick up the phone and call the building owner.
Shelby is getting more and more dismayed by the day that the first thing visitors to our office see when they walk in is our mess of a recycling center (yes, we're still depending on that old blue Snuggie to hold plain old cardboard boxes that too often are near overfilling). Shelby believes in manners, grace and professionalism — and even I can't argue that our recycling center comes close to meeting even one of those criteria.
Still, saving the earth is more important than being presentable, right?
In my heart, I'm sure that everyone is happy we've made this office commitment to green. They're just hiding their smiles on the inside.
Now, if only that unproperly-disposed milk carton wasn't still gnawing at me. Coconut can't haunt, can it? Could I be impeached as recycling girl?
Curse you, easy trash bins.