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Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Things you won't miss in the Apocalypse: #2

The Recycling Police


Don't get me wrong, we sort at my house. Trash is separated from recyclables, and almost weekly we have 30 to 40 gallons to be reused somewhere in the world.

But some folks take it too far

And you know exactly who I mean. That relative that brags about only having five gallons of trash a month because he or she recycle the rest. The neighbor who only buys recycled materials. The kids in your neighborhood that wander around on trash day in their neon-green shirts, urging you to dig through your crap and fish that one aluminum can out of the bottom. The one covered in potatoes peels or dog crap.

I have nothing against recycling; I'm just not fond of the Recycling Police.

I won't miss sorting my trash in the Darkness

Not me. I also won't miss trash day -- both literally and figuratively. My recycling comes at about 5:00 a.m. That's a little before my comfort zone of rising (since I wrote fiction well into the dark hours). So if I don't get my recycling out the night before, it ain't getting out that particular week.

And I hate each spring when the groups of youngsters spread out in the neighborhood. "Please remember to recycle," they say, pleading with tears in their eyes. Or even better, "Save the planet for me, Mister."

Wow, now I hate spring...and kids in neon-green shirts!

No one is going to bother you in the Darkness

Not about recycling, at least. They may beg for food, or shelter, or protection. My former recycling materials will be of no one's concern any longer.

Plus, people will recycle in new ways. Those plastic bottles shown here? Forget about the BPAs. They will be used many times over to store fresh water, regardless of dangerous they were once thought. They're easier to carry in a backpack than a five-gallon pail, right?

We will be more creative with our recyclables at the EOTWAWKI. We will have to be because once they're gone...they'll be gone forever.



Goodbye people worried about the trash we spread

I can't say I'm going to miss you.


Until next time when we talk about not missing the Internal Revenue Service,

e a lake


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