trash stream

My mother was riding along as I was driving off to Montpelier to fetch my daughter from the bus stop, and she noticed that someone had taken trash from the side of the road -- coffee cups, beer cans and such -- and stood them up right in the middle of the road! Sort of unsightly, she thought. She's the kind of person who collects trash in a bag when she goes for a walk. Very admirable behavior, certainly.

I, on the other hand, am the sort of person who takes trash from the side of the road and stands it up right in the middle for all and sundry to see and, very often, run over. Bud Ice cans -- the very tall ones -- make such a nice scrunchy wet sound when they roll with the undercarriage of a low-slung Toyota. Most drivers are very good at avoiding such strategically placed ornaments, and it's no easy task getting enough of them in the way that they can't all be missed.

And why do I do this? Why don't I just be a good citizen and bloody well collect the garbage and take it home --  out of sight, out of mind? Well, that's it exactly. Here's the thing about roads -- while I know we're not the only species to have them, still in some specific way they very much define what we are as humans. And the profusion of detritus that we so easily scatter from our personal conveyances define us as well. I like to emphasize that point.  If I just collect the stuff and take it home to the trash, I deprive all and sundry driving down the road of a perfect opportunity to contemplate the true nature of our species. A bag full of McDonalds leftovers -- half a shake and some sandy fries -- speak volumes about the kind of creatures we are. Bud Lite, Diet Pepsi and Twisted Tea all placed like Space Odyssey monoliths down the center line are a message to the multiverse: this is what we are! We drive our roads, doing things and being purposeful. And this is the mark we leave to show where we have been and what we have accomplished. Our lives are short, but we leave our mark, and we will not be forgotten.