Is This You? Earth without art

There were four of us on a long road trip to Texas from Nevada. The second day we drove more than 700 miles and were more than punchy when we pulled into a buffet restaurant in a small Texas town at around 7 p.m.

We gathered around the table with our plates full of food which included crawdads (Nevada word) aka crayfish (Texas word) and catfish, things we Nevadans were not accustomed to having at a buffet, but when in Rome ... well, you know.

As we all got situated, forks at the ready, out of nowhere my other half said to the rest of us, “You know what you call fish without any eyes?” we laughed at his attempt at humor, even though we hadn’t heard any punch line yet — we were really tired. We may have laughed a little too much as the Texans in the establishment looked as though they were about to call the local white coat brigade to take us back across their western border. Of course we didn’t know what you call fish without eyes and we said so and with baited breath we asked what fish without any eyes are called.

He says — now go with me here as it’s more of a verbal answer rather than a typewritten answer. With a straight face he says, “You call it a fsh!” and he accentuated the “F” and drew out the “sh” making this “fsshhh” slobbery noise. Go on, try it. Say “fish” without the “I!” And that is what you call a fish without any eyes. Come on now. It’s kind of funny. I know you’re going to use this joke at some time. Just make sure your “fsssh” is real slobbery.

Anyway, here’s where I’m going with this story.

I recently got an email reminding me Earth Day is coming up. It’s on April 22, and if you have the opportunity, stop and just take a good look around you. Appreciate this ole planet wherever you are. If you ever wondered what art is like, you can stop wondering because Earth is art in every form imaginable. From the sculpted mountains right down to the flowing painted waters of rivers and creeks — or are they cricks?

I have to admit, though, as grateful as I am to be alive on this rock I don’t — I’m almost ashamed to say this — I don’t recycle. There it is. I don’t recycle. I just took my trash out to the dumpster and gave this some thought. Swell, huh? She’s been thinking again!

I’ve seen the recent photos posted on my newsy home page of the huge floating islands of plastic bottles and waste found swirling somewhere out in the ocean, and it really did get to me. I’ve taken a few cruises and have seen firsthand the beautiful blue waters of the Caribbean dotted with a plastic bag or a bottle floating and other unrecognizable items clouding what should’ve been a pristine view. But I still don’t recycle. Why, I wonder?

Must it always come down to money? Yep, sadly it does. I remember when I was a kid and soda pop came in bottles. Real glass bottles. The kind you took back to the store and traded in for money, cash, change that jingle jangled in your pocket. That was my first shot at recycling. Then bottles were replaced by cans and those kind of got recycled because you could turn them in for cash, too. You still can recycle cans, but can you carry enough cans to get enough “chook” to buy candy? Probably not. So not as many cans are smashed with can smashers — uh, one of which is mounted in my garage. Yes, I also recycled cans because of the cash they were worth.

But (yep, another but), cans reverted back to bottles. Not the pretty glass bottles, but plastic bottles. Why plastic? Because of money, silly! Money again rears its ugly head. One of my favorite little sayings which concerns money is. “If we just didn’t need food, clothing or shelter we wouldn’t need money!” But we do need food, clothing and shelter so we need money and that leads to gathering up enough of the green stuff to live and that means work or some other mode of money gathering and that leads me right back to — ready? Recycling. Well, that was quite a ride.

Even though I don’t recycle as recycling is commonly thought of, I guess I do recycle somewhat. I try not to make a huge carbon footprint. I use less plastic and I reuse as much reusable stuff as I can reuse. I really believe this ole gal we call home is a true art form and I care about her. As the poster claimed in that Earth Day email — “EARTH without ART is just ‘eh!’”

Like fish with no “i” is “fsh!”

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Share with her at itybytrina@yahoo.com. Really!