Out of the frying pan

Oy vey.

It's funny sometimes, the responses you give in the course of conversation. When I talk to myself (which is all the time), deep in thought, up in the woods, I always sound so articulate; every word is chosen carefully, every sentence declarative and deliberate. In my own mind, I'm up on the stage giving a TED talk on why I like salmon so much.

But when it comes time to drop that knowledge in polite conversation, there is, shall we say, some lost energy there. I don't think I'm unique in that sense; it's just funny.

I was thinking, for example, about talking with people about observations made now that I have been back on a bike for a few years now. Typically the person I'm talking with will ask where I ride, since I live in a busy part of the city. If I go left, I go into Auburn, which is a little more low-key. If I go right, I head downtown into the city. More lights, traffic, etc. But I usually caution them that it's not so bad; I rarely feel like I'm going to get killed while I'm in the city. Remarkably enough, on balance, I find other motorists to be quite patient most of the time.

At some point, though, my subconscious takes over and I usually blurt something out about all the trash. And that's not exclusive to the city. In my 2 years (in May) back on a bike, I can say that until you ride in the gutter (or near it), you don't realize just how much trash is in and around our streets. It's disgusting. As someone who was raised by parents who looked at littering as on par with swearing, hitting your sister, or quite possibly murder in the pantheon of awful things you could do in life, I detest littering, and litterers. Especially this day and age, when there are publicly available trash bins basically outside every convenience store, shopping center, gas station, fast food restaurant, and parking lot. It drives me nuts how much people litter, which is why I felt compelled to stop and photograph this freaking frying pan on the side of the road in Auburn the other day.

It's not that it was in a bad spot, or that I could have gotten a flat. It's just that someone saw a small wooded area, had a frying pan, said to themselves, "jeez, there's a huge commercial strip of businesses with myriad trash bins right up the street. But I guess I'll just toss this frying pan out right here."

Pick up after yourselves, people. Because I said so.