IT'S ON THE BAG

How do we know this is posed? Married men
never stepped foot one into a grocery store
in the 1950s.

Up until roughly 40 years ago, grocery stores in the U.S. regularly provided free paper bags for shoppers. They were strong and could also double as covers for school textbooks, or a way for kids to design cheap masks.

Once society realized that paper bags were derived from trees, it was decided that grocery bags would henceforth be made of plastic. Plastic bags were even stronger than paper, but were useless as book covers, nor such a great idea for kids to make cheap masks, unless the parents were sick of having extra mouths to feed.

 

Answer: They sell them to you, moron!

When society realized that plastic bags were clogging up landfills and the insides of innocent ducks, reusable shopping bags made from recycled material were encouraged. Nobody listened.

Two years ago, the state of New York turned up the heat by requiring shoppers to use their own containers, or pay an extra five cents per paper bag provided by the stores. (So much for the trees!) Stores that continued to use plastic would be fined $500.

That law quickly went out the window at the start of the pandemic, because people were focusing more on saving their own lives rather than those of ducks. Last October, however, the grocery bag law officially went into effect. New Yorkers grumbled, as they do about everything ranging from rainy days to long crosswalk lights to their favorite pistachio gelato being sold out (the latter would be me).

But they adjusted to the bring-your-own-bag routine pretty quickly. Not so much to save the ducks, but to broadcast their political and societal affiliations. Let's take a look at the vinyl bag that a politician was handing out outside the Fairway grocery store last year.

As you can see, it's been put through the mill. But what's cool is how it transforms from what looks like an obese Candy Corn to a regular bag in no time. And it took me only six or seven months to figure out how to get it back to its original size. And by "figure out", I mean my wife showing me how to do it. 

By using this bag, people are proudly announcing they were not only down with the program from the get-go, but support the New York Health Department (whose faded logo can just about be made out on the left). The more faded, the better --  it's their way of saying, I cared about the environment before you did. Again, that would be me.

 

This arrived in the mail last week. By shopping with this, you're announcing that the 10-minute piece about sick African kids with flies buzzing around their heads you saw on PBS Newshour made you feel just guilty enough to contribute a few bucks to Doctors Without Borders. What I want is Doctors Without Invoices. 

By the way, how many children with flies around their heads had to go without vaccines in order to pay for these bags?

 

This one is from the WWF, which I initially thought was an organization that involved wrestling animals. Instead, it's the World Wildlife Federation. The  shoppers who use this are women who push their dogs in baby carriages -- which is why they call themselves "animal parents" rather than the outmoded "pet owner" -- and insist on bringing their "emotional support" peacocks on airplanes. 

This bag, by the way, can't carry anything larger than a strip steak for Fido. It's also coated in polyurethane, which doesn't even sound recyclable. If we donated to them, it was only for another tax deduction.

 

The Central Park Conservancy is a cause we happily donate to, because we actually use the park for leisurely strolls, picnics, and pretending we live somewhere else. A week after sending us a bag, they sent us another one along with a baseball cap. 

Shoppers with this bag/hat combo are women over the age of 60 who start petitions to eliminate automobiles in Manhattan, yell at you if your dog is off its leash, and loudly sigh I don't know WHAT I'd do without the park!  whether you asked them or not.

The women with hippie-length grey hair also wear Grateful Dead t-shirts, sport pins boasting their support for the latest cause du jour, and chuckle What a long, strange trip it's been!  at the drop of a CPC hat. They kind of make you not want to donate to Central Park.

 

Stoneledge in upstate New York is the Community Supported Agriculture farm we joined a few years ago. From May through mid-November, they drop off fresh, organic produce a few blocks from our home. If you think a potato is just a potato, think again. Too, their cherry tomatoes taste like candy, their red beets are to die for, while just one head of garlic is fresh enough to keep away 50 vampires. This is what vegetables are supposed to taste like.

People who use this bag are boasting, Oh, my dear, I would NEVER buy vegetables from the grocery store. They're positively vile!  I've never said it, of course, but it makes me feel superior to every shlub I see while carrying it.

Yup, I sure feel good about not using plastic bags from the grocery store. Now I regularly buy a box of 60 for $14.99 on Amazon. Am I still saving the ducks?

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