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So, where’s the litter pick up movement? …

Let’s be honest.

I thought the idea of keeping sidewalks and paths clean of litter would catch on a lot faster than it has (in fact, it hasn’t caught on at all, or at least my version of it hasn’t captured the nation’s imagination). There is no groundswell of support, no crush of citizens clamoring to corral litter, no local chapters springing up in neighborhoods all over creation, no blog readers by the tens of thousands (heck, I’d settle for the tens), no posts going viral, no photos reprinted in newspapers (and no newspaper editorials), no branded T-shirts or litter bags.

The operative terms here are no, none, and nada.

I don't blame people for not carrying a bag along with them. But I do know this - all it takes is removal of one plastic bottle or chunk of styrofoam to feel better about things.

I don’t blame people for not carrying a bag along with them. But I do know this – all it takes is removal of one plastic bottle or chunk of polystyrene to feel better about your place in the natural order of things.

This may be because:

A) The author is completely and utterly lame at promoting his blog along with his notion of neighborhood cleanliness (perhaps the author needs to quit beating a dead horse (i.e. bashing slobs) and cite more statistics and factoids and/or proffer uplifting/inspiring content). And he’s certainly not technically savvy/creative enough to engineer a truly attractive, attention-grabbing blog.

B) It’s a fairly unsavory idea; that is, getting your hands filthy by picking up someone else’s intentionally discarded junk. Most sane folk might agree with the Big Picture but get queazy at the specifics required to be a path picker-upper. It’s at this point where the best of intentions parts ways with reality.

C) Both of the above.

D) Other factors altogether.

This isn’t a quiz. There aren’t any right answers (although A is probably as close as anything). Maybe I need your help to jump start this movement.

I’m open to any and all ideas about how to push this rock up the hill; promotion, blog redesign, new directions for posts, etc.

My hands may be busy along the sidewalks, but my ears are otherwise all yours. Email me at

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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