the little things

I get out at Park Street on the red line every morning for work.  Every day I pass those new "bomb proof" garbage cans with the narrow opening for garbage.  Four days out of five, there will be newspapers piled on top of the container because commuters are too lazy to put the paper inside.  Four days out of five I stuff all the paper inside, and what do you know there is actually room for all the trash in there.  Today I practically ripped a paper out ofsomeone's hand and stuffed it in.  I feel like asking people "So, do you scrap your plate off on top of the garbage at home?  Do you throw your empty cans by the garbage or actually put them in?" 

I crossed the bridge to work.  Broken glass litters the street.  Cars, trucks, and buses roar past underneath my feet, the chemical taste of exhaust pushed around by the sluggish breeze.  The doors to the front of our office are broken, and there are signs on both doors in large black letters asking you to make sure the doors are closed completely.  The person in front of me breezes through, not bothering to read, not bothering to close the door. Inside the foyer is a second set of signs, reminding you about the doors.  He ignores them.  I make sure the door is closed behind me and choke down the urge to smack the man on the back of the head.

Maybe I'm a little extra touchy after watching Children of Men last night.  The world is a pretty crappy place, but it's not entirely bleak, it's not bereft of hope.  All the little things we do or don't do make an impact.  We can't stop global warming on our own, but we can throw our goddamn newspapers away.  We can't stop crime, but we can at least close a door when asked.  We want to live in a free and open society, but that means we have to take responsibility for our actions, and not be slaves to fear.

Really, see Children of Men.  It may rattle you, but it does show the power of hope.