Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Bob the Builder Award: The Trashy Good Samaritan on North Antioch Road

The children in this house really thank you, nameless Good Samaritan.

I can't figure out why there is so much little trash on the ground in Missouri. There are trash cans in the city. I have seen them. Resturants have them. City sites have them. Homes have them. But for some reason, there seems to be a few too many residents who have trouble with the idea that they should hold on to their empty Quiktrip (the mid-west answer to 7-11) fountain drink cup until they get home to throw it away. It makes me crazy.

Of course, I have a trashy history. Not only am I the trash queen at the leadership academy and picked up trash all over China, but I have picked up trash in SLC (at the 1996 Olympic Torch Relay) and mainly, Alaska. I learned my trashy ways from my father, Mr. P.

Mr. P used to make my brother and I every year go out to the stretch of road that we lived by and picked up the trash along it. And the trash in our yard, which he ran his roofing business from. And it was a lot of trash, and a lot of yard. And I hated EVERY minute of it.

And even more than cleaning up my neck of the woods, the elemementary and middle school I attended would bus the ENTIRE student body out to different parts of roads and town and give us big yellow bags with a walrus on them that said something really witty like "Keep Alaska Clean." We would have to pick up trash all over the place and one year we weren't allowed back on the bus until the entire bag was full. They didn't care about if you were disabled, wearing your Sunday best, or weren't dressed appropriately for the weather. They let small children wander by busy roads without adult supervision. The one kickback is that when we got back to school (filthy by the way---have you ever seen spring in Alaska? We dont' call it spring. We call it "break-up"--as in the ice and snow are beginning to break up. It is the wettest, muddiest place on the planet for weeks) we would get an ice cream sandwich...which was a better deal than what I got at home on our trash pick up day.

Unfortunately for the children residing in this home now, there are no ice cream sandwiches but still big yellow bags without a walrus and a parent who believes in picking up trash.
For weeks now, I have been driving the girl to work at Dave's Hot Rod Shop and we have been seeing these same big messes of trash on this road. I can't stand to see them. I think everyday when I see it that when the weather gets straight, I have a Boy Scout son and "Greenie" daughter that will have their work cut out for them when we go to pick it all up. They know it is coming and they are hating every minute of it.
But to our surprise, early last week, someone beat us to the punch. The trashy good samaritan took care of it. The trash is gone, gone, gone.
Thank you to the trash picker upper who will never see this post. If I knew your name, I would take you for an ice cream sandwich. :)