keep on rottin' in the free world

Once when I was sailing in Bahamian pirate land, I met a Scotsman who lived up to every frugal stereotype in the book. Maybe he had to. He lived with all of his possessions on a wind generator-powered sailboat with a cat as his first mate, as he migrated bi-annually between St. Augustine and Marsh Harbour, chasing the warm weather. He lived the most free existence I have seen thus far, though he was a pensioner, so it's not like he also had to pull in some sort of salary. Anyway, before he would have a single malt, he would first swish some water around in the glass and pour it out.

"Does that make it taste better?" I asked.

"Nae, lad," says he, explaining the water served to line the glass. "Aie can't abide the thought o' one bloody drop gwin ta waste."

Makes sense to me. I hate waste. I mean, I hate it to the point where I feel compelled to scavenge whenever I see useful items in the trash. Reusing is of course much greener than recycling. Dumpster divers, we understand each other, my brethren, do we not? Anyway, the same mentality lends itself very smoothly and admirably to composting.

I throw out the equivalent of one small grocery bag's worth of garbage every two weeks. I'm sure I could do better. The reason for the small discharge is that the remains of the carbon-based life forms (in my case stuff like vegetable & fruit peelings, stems, onion skins, coffee grinds & filters, and paper) get composted. Yes, even the junk mail (minus envelopes, colored paper/ink and plastic windows) gets shredded and added to the pile. Very satisfying, considering how my efforts to get off the ad men's lists have never seemed to work. The system does especially well with a purely vegetarian diet, but carnies don't have to totally despair.

I switch the location of the compost bin (pictured) around each year, which makes it easier to plow the decomposed material into the soil. Everyone's happy.

We should all aspire to be compost someday. Such thoughts arouse my morbid sense of curiosity, which has just led me to this article. Spare me your disgust. We live our entire lives as parasites. I eat plants now. I have no problem with them eating me later.