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A guest submission!

Leave it to my friend Bob in Des Moines to be the first – and so far only – convert to physically pick something up off the sidewalk, photograph the debris and send in the damning photo.

It was an empty Frito Lay bag ditched by some clod in Iowa. One item yes, but a huge leap forward for Pick Up Your Path. Bob successfully removed nuisance trash that won’t be a continued eyesore for him and other walkers and won’t enter the environmental chain.

In one fell swoop, Bob doubled the number of states in the Pick Up Your Path ‘footprint’ (North Carolina and now Iowa) so

Bob made good on his intent to rid his path of junk. One item removed is still significant.

Bob made good on his intent to rid his path of junk. One item removed is still significant.

we effectively have 1/25th of U.S. states in our corner. He doubled the number of citizen walker/picker-uppers in our quest to rid our paths of junk. (What I probably need to do is create a citizen’s page for path zealots who will pick up that one thing, that one piece of junk as often as they can. So if you retrieve someone else’s errant toss, send me the photo, stat.)

The temptation is to ask him ‘what will you pick up tomorrow?’ But one item is way better than nothing.

Thanks, buddy. Much obliged.

About Dave Bradley (264 Articles)
I was a writer by trade so one would think letters would come easily for me. It is so now, but wasn't always that way. Indeed, the first letter was written the Monday after Ellen started her freshman year in college. For years I've wondered - with no good answers - why I swiveled my office chair toward my computer screen to fire up a word processing document for that first letter. I just don't know. I just did. Perhaps it was the angst of separation or wanting to say things that had gone unsaid at that moment when we parted ways in front of her college dormitory. What was a one-off became habitual. When her brother Reid enrolled in the same college, his name was added to the salutation line. They were kids then and are adults now. No matter. The letter writing habit remains so today. I live in Brevard, North Carolina. I'm well away from where they live and don't see them nearly as often as I'd like. That's why letters, at least to me, fill the void of distance. The pages give me something to say and the space to say it. There is no assurance they read the letters; indeed, I have never asked if they do so. With the pace of their busy lives who could blame them for letting a letter sit unopened? Over time, it has dawned on me that the letters are both communicative - and cathartic. By nature, letters are about the writer; the writer can only write about their situation. Perhaps that is as it should be. It's all about the here and now from one person's perspective.

1 Comment on A guest submission!

  1. Bob Furstenau // July 3, 2013 at 4:24 pm // Reply

    Thank you Dave, I am picking up stuff daily but I am only going to photograph the ones that i can add a line to…”Frito Lay in my path no more”. There was a Jimmy Johns wrapper last week that appeared to have it’s contents delivered with advertised speed, devoured and then disposed of with the speed of a CARE LESS customer and an even less caring Jimmy John. I was in NYC last week and first block I walked would have resulted in a shopping cart of trash. Keep on picking up…

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