I’m haunted by the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, as I wrote about in Drowning In Plastic: Birds, Fish and Humans. Threats posed by the swirling, 90-foot-deep dervish of plastic tonnage are not just about mankind’s health or mankind fouling earth’s mighty oceans.
Dangers posed to wildlife by plastic refuse are shocking and lethal. We’re literally drowning in our squalid trash, and drowning (and choking) our world, too.
We want to do our part, of course. Presumably like yours, my household has done a mediocre job of minimizing plastics we dump and of reducing our weekly garbage pile.
We sometimes tote reusable shopping bags to the market. When we don’t, we usually carry groceries home in paper, not plastic, bags. Our weekly farm-share service organic fruits and veggies are delivered in a recycled crate.
But far too often, our wastebaskets are crammed with food and cosmetic bottles, boxes, tubes, cartons, wrappings, utensils, and whatnot. All of our homes teem with plastic refuse from kitchens, bathrooms, medicine cabinets, even garages.
So what’s a well-intentioned household to do? I have a couple suggestions, some of them innovative.
First, shop at farmers’ markets whenever possible. If not feasible, deliberately choose grocery stores that minimize disposables. And bring your own reusable shopping bags. (Please!)
In my neighborhood, Henry’s Markets and Sprouts Markets, which are merging soon, offer many foods in bulk bins, sans packaging, although you still scoop purchases into thin plastic or brown paper bags. Some conventional supermarkets, such as Stater Brothers, have made genuinely commendable efforts to reduce packaged produce and expand use of bulk bins for candies and snacks. These options are a decent start.
I’m hoping that an intriguing new market innovation, in.gredients, plans to open a Southern California location. Expectations are helium-high for “the first package-free and zero waste grocery store in the United States” even before it debuts in Austin, Texas this fall. Briefly, you provide your own containers for everything you buy, or use their free, compostable containers. Click HERE to learn more.
Second, consciously adopt a more plastic-free lifestyle. It’s not easy, certainly. But if each and every U.S. household reduced plastic waste by merely five percent, the results would be revolutionary.
Take plastic wrap and plastic sandwich and food bags. Can you instead use permanent containers? Or toys and games for your kids or grandkids. Can you buy wooden rather than plastic? Can you buy leather rather than plastic balls? Better yet, can you entice them outdoors with gleaming new bikes rather more plastic junk destined to break?
Beth Terry of Oakland, California is my personal hero because of her quest since 2007 to live a plastic-free life, which she cheerfully blogs at MyPlasticFreeLife.com. ” I looked at my own life and realized that through my unconscious overconsumption, I was personally contributing the the suffering of creatures I hadn’t even known existed,” writes Ms. Terry.
Since she began her personal no-plastics crusade, she’s eliminated 2,054 plastic objects from her home. While few of us have stamina or persistence of Beth Terry’s caliber, we can all gain some terrific new plastic-freeing ideas from her journey. Here are a few:
- Glass straws rather than plastic
- Gauze rather than plastic band-aids
- Metal safety razors rather plastic throw-away razors
- Crocheted headphone covers rather than plastic foam covers
- Plastic-free school and office supplies made of recycled materials
Here’s what I find sweetly odd about Beth Terry’s plastic-free suggestions: she’s advocating the pre-plastics lifestyle my grandparents lived in the 1930s and 1940s. Gauze for bandages, metal razors, glass containers, paper folders, pretty crocheted goods. Nothing new under the sun, I guess. Solomon was right…
Third, live with less. Less house. Less car. A lot less stuff. You’ll save money. You’ll save time and aggravation. And you’ll use a heck of a lot less plastic.
Sunset magazine recently featured a story about the four-person Johnson family of Mill Valley, California who maintain a “zero waste” home. “How does a family manage to produce only two handfuls of trash per year?” asked Sunset. My honest answer: I have no earthly idea.
They look like nice people, these Johnsons. Not holier-than-thou recycling types. Look like they’d be pleasant neighbors. But Ron and I couldn’t live the stripped-down, no-frills lifestyle that is their wont.
The Johnsons have an interesting story, though, that provides teachable moments for us. Reports Sunset:
“Garbage… is something that happens rarely in this modern, minimalistically decorated house. That’s by day-to-day intention—to live simpler and lighter on the planet. Their quest started three years ago when Béa and husband Scott downsized from a 3,000-square-foot home to their current 1,400 square feet…
“If the boys outgrow something, it’s donated, sold, or re-gifted. Béa and Scott encourage friends and family to give gifts of experience rather than things. This year, their 10-year-old’s birthday gifts included a weekend of skiing and gift certificates to a climbing gym and the local ice cream shop…
“The family uses no Q-tips, cotton balls, or tissue (handkerchiefs sub in here). Toilet paper rolls come wrapped in paper, not plastic. Books all come from the library.” Click HERE for Sunset’s 9-page slide show of “The zero-waste home.”
Despite these terrific ideas, I still feel overwhelmed by the destruction mankind has thoughtlessly wrought with garbage, especially plastics refuse. I hate that we could eventually snuff out our beautiful world, no matter the reason. But that we could hoard our world to death is humiliating for our species. Or it should be humiliating.
Please do your part to reverse the damage wrought over the past five decades by the astonishing proliferation of plastics. Minimize plastics used in your home, and reduce your weekly trash pile. Take proud responsibility for your part.



I’m haunted by the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. And I feel shame that a million birds and 100,000 marine mammals and turtles choke to death each year on human garbage found in the world’s oceans.
Ron thinks Carmageddon is ridiculous… mass silliness born of Southern Californians’ inability to cope with even the tiniest change in road conditions. Or to happily stay home for any length of time.
If I could write about anything, without fear of repercussions, I would write about family relationships, especially those of and with our adult children.
I hear it often: “Organics are a rip-off. Another scam to charge more.” “There’s no (or almost no) difference between organic fruits and veggies and those sold at the grocery store.”
For your summer reading, consider two absorbing half-hipster reads that are decidedly not for your mother’s genteel book club.



