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More of this, some of that…

The environment can’t seem to catch a break these days.

Local business interests vs. protection of resources, accelerated global warming, and yes, the inevitable litter along my path share today’s headlines.


Now the plan is to store tens of thousands of tons of coal ash from Duke Power’s coal-fired plants at a dumping ground at the Charlotte airport.

While it is good that the dark dust is removed from close proximity to water sources, on the other hand why the persistence with coal as a power generator at all? Not that nuclear is the answer but here is what riddles me about the proposal: the airport has scrubbed a multi-acre solar panel arrangement that could have generated power. I’m no expert on the timing of coal ash proposal. Yet the nixing of the solar farm suspiciously comes at a time when solar – not really in Duke’s best interest – would have been at least a symbolic tip of the hat to environmental friendliness.


Global warming deniers had better start unbuttoning their overcoats sooner than they expected.

The sea level rise is quickening; now expected to be feet higher than earlier thought. Calving of huge slabs off of the polar ice pack is now measured in the many acres per day. Mt. Everest, K2 and Denali are about to become a little bit shorter vis a vis sea level.


It was a bad, bad weekend for trash. A guy misses a couple of days of walking and look what happens: his path goes to hell. The entire route was swamped, deluged, awash in litter and plastic and just plain junk. Slobs rule and the rest of us are the losers. My efforts to utter far fewer expletives at a far lower volume aren’t working so well. Why would I expect otherwise? WTF is with that?

Damn it, it just never gets easier. There's more of them - slobs, idiots, morons, et al - than there are of me.

Damn it, it just never gets easier. There’s more of them – slobs, idiots, morons, et al – than there are of me.

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 More of this, some of that…

  1. How do we make your passion a national program? Pick Up Your Path IOWA, Pick Up Your Path NEBRASKA, Pick Up Your Path New York….

    Maybe there is a corporate sponsor out there like Meredith or The Sierra Club?

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