Confessions of a Snoopy Pants

With these hot summer days, I’m taking my walks in the cooler early morning and have discovered unexpected benefits. I walk farther. I encounter less human traffic and more pets, bunnies, and squirrels. Plus, it’s a lot more satisfying to shower when I arrive home knowing the exercise portion of my day is over and I can get on with life.

On most of these treks, I haul my carcass over the Tupper Street bridge for the added calorie-burn, then straight on until I come to Crescent Road. I usually then take the sidewalk on the north side rather than the walking path along the lake. I tell myself there’s more shade and less goose poop, but really it’s because I am snoopy. I love a close-up view of the homes and yards. I’m mind-boggled by the gorgeous landscaping, vibrant flowers, shrubs trimmed to perfection, rocks arranged just so with nary a weed. How do they do it? I could do yard work full time and my yard would still be mediocre. Not that I’d want to. And therein lies the secret, I suppose.

This adorable "Hobbit door" can be found in my home town.

I enjoy walking around Portage and seeing the variety of homes all jumbled in the same neighborhood. I love sizing up old houses and imagining what they originally looked like and who lived in them. It’s delightful when a hundred-year old house looks well kept but depressing when it’s not. Sometimes I’ll see an overgrown yard with perennials that might have been planted half a century ago fighting through weeds. Crumbling brick flower beds attached to the front of the house. Once gorgeous porches in shambles. My heart breaks a little whenever I see boarded and broken windows, knowing someone once loved and cared for that home.

My place would neither break your heart nor wow you with its beauty. I need to find other ways to bless my community and when I’m out walking, I can think of three. The first is simply that by keeping my body healthier, I’m bringing a better self to the world around me.

Secondly, I make a point of picking up at least one piece of litter every time. Sadly, I can always count on lots of options. Lately I’ve seen more face masks littering the ground than I see on faces. Seriously? I know my readers aren’t litterbugs, but I don’t know for sure whether they are litter picker-uppers.

Thirdly, I try to remember to pray for my community as I walk. You don’t need to know the people you’re praying for. Someone hasn’t found time to mow their grass? Pray for them, they’re probably under stress. These folks are renovating? Pray for peace in the household, because you know they’re going to need it. This house has a wheelchair ramp? Pray about all the challenges attached to living with a disability, both for the disabled person and their family or caregivers. See toys or a swing set? Pray for those children. That business. This school. That church. Every step you take can bring a blessing to your community, whether you see it or not.

 Happy snooping! I mean, walking.

 

Why Littering Just Makes Sense

Now and then, a girl just has to rant. Since I’m certain none of my readers are litterbugs, my goal today is to help you see the error of your ways and begin to convert. It may seem unnatural, at first, to throw trash on the ground, but you can grow used to anything with practice. 

Five days a week, weather permitting, I walk to work and back. Within that six-block stretch (which includes the Tupper Street overpass) sit two trash bins, provided by our fine City. I try to make a game of moving at least one piece of trash from the ground to the inside of each bin per trip. That’s four pieces per day times five days, equals 20 pieces of trash per week. I can usually accomplish this without leaving the sidewalk. From this little exercise, I gain tremendous feelings of self-righteousness and superiority. 

Here’s my dilemma. By Friday, finding litter becomes more challenging. Sometimes I abstain from my game and sometimes I must take steps off my beaten path, which becomes really irritating. Over the weekend, I can usually count on litterbugs coming to my rescue, dropping more offerings and thereby affirming again my conviction that I am better than most run-of-the-mill citizens.

Littering just makes sense, although you may not see it at first. Most vices provide an obvious payback factor. People overeat because it tastes so darn good, or get drunk because it helps them escape for a while. Lying might protect one from recrimination; cheating on a spouse may make one feel attractive and desirable. But you probably think there is no reward in throwing garbage on our streets and sidewalks. That’s where you’re wrong. 

It’s a matter of convenience, and convenience is highly valued in today’s world. It really is far more expedient to drop your trash where you are than it is to carry it ten feet further and put it in a smelly garbage bin, or—Heaven forbid—unashamedly hoard it in your car until you’re home. If folks don’t catch on to this, I could find myself stuck in a much cleaner community. 

Thank goodness I no longer live in Texas. If you’ve ever visited, you’ve seen their famous “Don’t Mess with Texas” signs along the highways. In Texas, you can be fined up to $500 for trash up to five pounds—and yes, that includes even apple cores. Repeat the offense and you could face a fine of up to $2,000 and 180 days in jail. I don’t know what people like me have to do to feel superior in Texas. Volunteer at soup kitchens, maybe? Teach Sunday School? Sucks to be them. 

Wherever you live, you can do your part to ensure do-gooders like myself never need to suffer the indignity of feeling average. Tomorrow is Halloween, a perfect opportunity to supply us with candy wrappers, empty chip bags, and pop cans with which to maintain our general holier-than-thou-ness. Please drop it liberally, and teach your children to do the same.

Because now and then, a girl just has to play devil’s advocate.