City fighting waste with waste, #winning

Note: This column appears in the 4/28 issue of The Glendale Star and the 4/29 issue of the Peoria Times

Recently, the City of Glendale expanded its recycling program. Unfortunately, this expansion did not include plastic grocery bags, which cannot be recycled because, according to Debbie Coy, Glendale Recycling Coordinator, they “gum up the machinery.” Not cool, bags.

My wife and I try to do our part in the ongoing fight against plastic bags. For one thing, we have several reusable shopping bags. Granted, we almost always forget to bring them to the store, but the point is—we have them. We also reuse the plastic bags we acquire as garbage bags in our tiny garbage can. Because these bags often have holes in them, I typically go through a roll of paper towels cleaning up the coffee grinds and miscellaneous liquids the bags leak when I go to dispose of them. Such is the nature of saving nature.

Unfortunately, cities like Glendale and Peoria cannot rely solely upon the commitment of environmentally conscious, vegetarian, hippie citizens such as my wife and I. And every time I see a plastic Safeway bag stuck to a cactus, my heart aches. Luckily, West Valley cities like Glendale are actively joining the fight, and not just with an awareness walk.

According to the Arizona Republic, Glendale is reusing plastic bags at city parks. For dog poop.

Now, I know what you’re saying: What about those fancy poop bags? Local citizen Heather Gabaldon, for one, was quoted as saying, “You don’t need the fancy poop bags.” I think many of us would agree with Heather, especially the City of Glendale, which “typically spent $2,000 annually for dog waste bags.”

Taxpayers can rest assured that in the future, a much smaller fraction of our tax dollars will be spent on fancy dog waste bags. And while $2,000 may seem like a lot of money, bags ain’t free, except at the grocery store, which is why this idea is so genius. Who better than our local grocer to foot the bill for our dog waste cleanup efforts?

Some have argued, why not eliminate plastic bags altogether or at least purchase machinery that doesn’t “gum up” so easily? Well, San Francisco is the only city that has successfully banned plastic bags in grocery stores, but other cities that have attempted to do so have met resistance. The issue of plastic bags does not, unfortunately, transcend politics, and Republicans and Democrats alike fear we may regress as a society to the point where we are carrying individual items of stores by hand and cleaning up dog poop with shovels like they did in the 1940s.

According to Coy, plastic bags take about 1,000 years to break down. With the help of this program, the bags will still take 1,000 years to break down in landfills, but they will have poop in them. So … yeah. Plus, dog waste itself is biodegradable and a natural fertilizer, and we don’t want that messing up the planet.

Of course, I kid. This is a great idea. In fact, I reuse plastic grocery bags for my own dog’s waste. Well-versed in this process, I should reiterate my earlier point—watch out for holes. (Those fancy poop bags are so expensive because they’re built much sturdier.) If you get any on your hands, I recommend an hour-long, hot shower, which always feels good after a long day of saving the planet.


Ooh, la, la ... so fancy! But, are you sure that won't gum up my toilet?

Search for trash receptacle proves difficult, ends happily

Note: This column appears in the 11/12 issue of The Glendale Star and the 11/13 issue of the Peoria Times

After months of deliberation and weeks of searching, my wife and I finally made the important life decision to buy a new garbage can.

Now, this wasn’t a decision made easily or without much heartache and gnashing of teeth. What happened was this: The springs on our original garbage can, which we had always kept under the sink, broke. This meant that I could no longer simply pull down the handle and experience the grand convenience of having the lid pop open, thus allowing me to easily dispose of waste. No, instead I had to drag the can out from underneath the sink, open the lid manually and, in the process, get hit with a brick wall of funk made possible when dirty diapers meet onions.

So we were in the market for a new garbage can. As a result, I was unusually excited about the normally loathsome trip to Bed Bath & Beyond. Their entire back wall was full of garbage cans as far as the eye could see, and I felt like a kid in a garbage can store! Unfortunately, each one cost about a million dollars.

Listen, I like to splurge every now and then just as much as the next guy. Just last month I paid $1.29 for one song on iTunes, which is just ridiculous. But I refuse to pay good money for something I am going to consistently defile with trash. Most of their garbage cans were stainless steel with laser sensors and built-in alarm clocks, which are, by my standards, unnecessary conveniences for something you’re throwing garbage into. My wife however was lured -– as many people are –- by the fantasy of a modern garbage can and all the social advantages it entails. Instead I managed to find the only plastic one there, which cost like eight bucks. It had one of those flip lids! It was going to be the best day ever.

We then got into a heated discussion as to whether or not the garbage can I chose would fit underneath our sink. I was convinced it would. My wife didn’t think so. I am sure you can imagine how that one ended, but I do need to mention that it wasn’t even close. If I had cut the garbage can in half, it still wouldn’t have fit.

So we were in the market for a new garbage can. We continued to search and search, unable to find anything in our (my) budget. Also, the harsh realities of modern waste disposal forced us to reconsider if under the sink was a feasible location. I was obviously distraught.

They say the best time to find something is when you’re not looking for it, and wouldn’t ya’ know that when we had just given up hope, we found one! I won’t say where, as it may offend some people (my father) who have boycotted this store for various reasons. But still.

It didn’t come without compromises though. It’s not plastic, and it won’t go under the sink. But it’s small, which means it’s not an eyesore, although it does mean that I have to change the bag every 45 minutes. Most importantly, it has a foot pedal. Now, when people come over, they don’t have to look in every cabinet for our garbage can. It’ll be right there, and they can use their foot! And they will think that we’re rich.


A foot pedal? Pfftt.