It's strange to me, then, that my post-college poverty has made me so trendy. It certainly wasn't by design. I couldn't afford tables, so I've reused some "borrowed" milk crates (the Dairy Queen will get those back any day now). I couldn't afford a car, so I biked to work in Alaska all winter. My apartment is minuscule so I've waged a personal war against the under-the-sink-stockpile of plastic bags and use cloth tote bags.
Despite an ultra-green contingent of hippies, I have to say most Alaskans are in my generally-apathetic camp. They seem to like the environment as long as they're not inconvenienced to keep it healthy. Sure it's great to hike, camp, fish, rappel and partake in a slew of other categorically dangerous and insane things, but they'll be damned if they'll put that aluminum can in a recycling bin.
Still, it's probably not their fault. Back in Minnesota, curbside recycling was a foregone conclusion. Finished with that soda? Throw the can in the bin in the garage. Done with that newspaper? Put it out on the curb.
Not so in Alaska. Like everything else, recycling is just a little bit harder, making it a little bit sweeter when the task is accomplished.
Today for the second time in as many weeks, I loaded up the LTD and took our recycling to the Anchorage Recycling Center. Any good greenie would tell me it the trip was carbon-neutral at best. I'm pretty sure the LTD gets -2 miles to the gallon.But it's not really about that. As I slammed the door on the LTD at the recycling station, trendy aviators shading my eyes from the dull sun, I realized it's about me. It's not about doing something good for the environment, but about feeling like I've done something good for the environment. It's another notch in my elitist belt. Green is the new black.
But it's still good, I guess. I mean doing the right thing for the wrong reason is still doing the right thing, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment