A REAL PICK ME UP...

I saw him do it and a thrill ran through me.

There he was - one of my people! - an older gentleman stooping down to pick up scattered pieces of litter on a side street where Sammy Girl and I were taking a Sunday morning walk.

Most days, I feel as if I am the only nitwit in the world who gathers up other people's careless discards, so I was enthralled to see someone taking the litter problem into their own well-worn hands, literally. When Sammy and I caught up with the aging fellow as he headed toward the public trash can, I said "good morning" to him and he tipped his baseball cap in a silent reply. No time for chit-chat, this guy was on a mission and in Philly, litter is a project with no end date. 

I was so inspired by the conscientious fellow that when I reached my street, I picked up a few stray pieces of trash myself. The only problem was, there was nowhere to throw it. The industrial-strength trashcan that my neighbor had thoughtfully placed on our block for public use had recently been crushed to pieces.(Ironically enough, probably by a trash truck, the only vehicle known to mankind that could ossify a contractor-grade garbage can.)

Then I did the only thing that an anti-litter crusader could do - I went and "borrowed" a trash can.

Hey, don't judge me. The house where I pirated it is virtually abandoned and the owner hasn't lived there for over a year. He is in a retirement home and his cousin comes by once in a great while to remove items from his house, but she never picks up all the newspapers that have accumulated in front of the neglected residence, nor any of the litter or leaves that have piled-up on his steps.

I do that.

So when I spotted several empty trash cans on his front porch, I figured that pilfering one was an even trade. 

Later that week, still in uber clean-up-the-neighborhood mode, Sammy and I were out walking when we came upon a working man standing next to the passenger side of his truck. He appeared to be organizing the contents inside his vehicle and on the curb below him were the remnants of a fast food bag, a Styrofoam cup and other trash items. As we passed him, I looked at the pile of rubbish accumulating at his feet (honest, I didn't say a word) and he must have felt my "seriously, dude?" death stare even through my sunglasses. Instantly, he started picking up his mess. I offered to throw his stuff into the trash receptacle at the end of the street, he said "sure!" and all was right in the please-don't-be-a-litterbug world.

Except for that whole thievery thingy.

Yes, I'll admit it, my name is Diane and I am a trashcan-stealing ne'er-do-well.

But I can't help it - the sight of my fellow litter-picker that Sunday put the devil in me.

So let's make a deal: If you don't tell and you don't litter, I won't either.

Comments

[Paul]

On my morning walk to get the paper, I pick up any litter I see. I think it's working because others have started.