News Ticker

Good news and bad news…

There is a mixed bag of quasi environmental news today.

First, the good news. California Gov. Jerry Brown “… signed the nation’s first statewide ban on single-use plastic bags at grocery and convenience stores, driven to action by pollution in streets and waterways,” according to the Associated Press.

Of course – no surprise here – a national coalition of plastic bag manufacturers immediately said it would seek a voter referendum to repeal the law, which is scheduled to take effect in July 2015. I say ‘Good luck guys.’ One of the trade group’s arguments: the legislation would “hurt the environment.” Huh?

The local news here in Charlotte isn’t so hot, and ostensibly has made my pathway job that much tougher. We’re down to one street sweeper machine and only one crew to pick up litter in the city streets (note: I do not count as a crew).

Charlotte's going to do even less than it was doing to pick up litter. They'll scale back to sweeping streets only on weekends. Alas, my duty is at least six days a week.

Charlotte’s going to do even less than it was doing to pick up litter. They’ll scale back to sweeping streets only on weekends. Alas, my duty is at least six days a week.

The Sept. 30 Charlotte Observer reported this morning that problems with a vendor paid to pick up refuse for recycling has forced the city to pitch in to empty curbside recycling containers and that effort “… has “strained” city resources, according to a memo this week.”

Hence the skeleton armada of machines and litter picker uppers. To make matters worse, reports the Observer, “Starting this weekend, street sweeping and litter pick-up will be done on the weekends.”

Welcome to my world.

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.

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