Brattleboro, Vermont Selectboard Un-Candidate #31

     After the last post, I walked over to the Municipal Building to see a person I heard could tell me where Brattleboro's plastic bags ended up. If it was really in the oceans, outnumbering the fishes. However, I encountered the assistant town manager, Patrick, as I asked around, so he got the question. Patrick thought Brattleboro's trash went to a landfill, so I ventured, " So there's no problem then. Our plastic bags are not landing up in the ocean."
     To paraphrase, Patrick said, "Oh, I don't know. There could be some blowing into the Conneticut River."
     "And from there into the Atlantic Ocean. But I've never seen any plastic bags blowing into the Conneticut River," I said.
     Patrick shrugged. I haven't even seen a plastic bag by itself in Brattleboro. For a month last winter, twice a day I drove the Mountain Road on the other side of the river from Brattleboro, using my binoculars trying to see the snowy owl who had been photographed there earlier. I never saw a plastic bag blowing into the Connecticut out of Brattleboro or New Hampshire. I never saw the snowy owl either. Just in case, I am asking that you keep an eagle's eye out for plastic bags whirling about Brattleboro, and if you see one please call me at 352-359-0850. Please try to arrest that whirling bag before it jumps into the Connecticut, swims out to the ocean and outnumbers the fishes! Also, if you see any women on sticks flying around please report them too. That way I can resolve two hysterias for the price of one.
     Tomorrow, I will try to tell you about my conversation with the people who pick up our wicked plastic bags and take them to their final resting place. Hint: It's not the ocean, competing with the fishes.
Peter Nickerson, Philosophy Major, Class of '68
     I am trying to grow an overwatch of amusement since I found it extremely hard to be assertive if I am not enraged. The nothing confrontation with Patrick was difficult for me, and it was a good reminder of just why I have been so non-assertive all my life. It's a long, if not impossible, journey from a frightened rabbit to a charging, but partially amused, lion.
     I was actually able to do that with someone the other day while discussing bags. He got so worked up that he got up and walked away, but I found it amusing. Usually, I would be shaking with anger. Patrick, though, was more difficult because he was an authority figure, and I was in his lair, surrounded by his allies (if they wanted their paycheck).