 |
 went to church last weekend. Now before
any of you say "Oh, no, Bob has found religion," let me assure
you this was not your run of the mill, "everyone face forward and listen
to the man speak" sort of church. Although my place of worship offered
the standard genuflecting, soul searching and stained glass, it was of a
higher purpose. Not being one to find faith behind four walls, I none the
less found a magical place that was a shrine, a temple, a holy place and
retreat all rolled into one. I went to the coastal cathedral. I went to
the beach.
 I am one of those people who enjoy
wide open spaces. Looking out at the ocean, I totally understand why surf
culture has adopted the word 'awesome' as the ultimate sign of acknowledgment.
The Pacific Ocean, in all her El Niño Fury, is indeed awe inspiring.
My time of worship here is not passive, it is service based. Instead of
pews, there are cobbles. Instead of picking up hymnals, I pick up garbage.
The stained glass comes in the form of beer bottles.
The only sin present is the refuse
littering the beach. Is this is how Californians show their gratitude? Americans
decry anti-Semitic graffiti on synagogues, and the burning of black churches,
yet they turn their collective heads when the most sacred of spaces, the
earth, is defiled. Could it be that humans believe that anything man-made
deserves protection, and natural spaces do not? Our coast has become a collection
plate, and what we are offering is trash lots of it.
Four years ago I wrote a column entitled
"The Last Straw." Sadly, nothing has changed except the calendar
date. On the hundred yards of South Carlsbad Beach I claim as my parish,
plastic still represents the majority of the litter. Straws by the thousands
most notable the red and yellow striped McDonalds variety are everywhere.
Adding to the eclectic mix of the thoughtlessly discarded were plastic douche
bottles, syringes, rubber balls, knotted balls of fishing line and single
shoes. Every time I picked up a plastic baggy I offered a prayer of thanks
that this action would reduce the risk of an endangered sea turtle mistakenly
thinking this was dinner, only to later die of starvation because of the
ingested plastic. Also retrieved from the beach that morning were oil bottles,
milk jugs, tampon applicators and, in varying sizes, the proverbial Styrofoam
chunk. |
 |
There are three reasons why I do
this. First, and most obviously, someone has got to do it. Second, this
is time of the year when the beaches need it the most. And finally, no people.
O.K., some people, but not the 'lets lay here until we get cancer' sort
of people. You know the type: lounging around with a cigarette in one hand
and a Pepsi Big Gulp in the other, listening to music at a volume designed
to drown out the ocean. Joining my partner and I on the beach that morning
were charming couples strolling along enjoying the view. The trick is not
to look down.
Never one to give up the chance to
be a goodwill ambassador for Southern California, I struck up a conversation
with passersby. The first couple I spoke to was from Iowa. They said how
lovely the coast was, and they were glad it had stopped raining. I replied
that this was the best time of year because the rain had washed all the
smog from the sky. They also commented the area was not what they expected,
too crowded. I agreed. The second couple was from Colorado. The gentleman
actually picked up some garbage. A very nice gesture. They commented on
all the garbage on the beach, and the lack of sand and then asked where
they could get a good breakfast overlooking the ocean. I suggested KI's
and off they went. Before leaving, I spoke with a man from Palos Verde.
He reminisced about his childhood memories of camping here 30 years ago.
He too asked where all the sand went. I explained that development and jetties
were responsible. Like the others, he went away disappointed.
Why am I telling you this? Simple.
This is a not-so-subtle reminder that our beaches are not just for locals.
And, if we are going to keep the tourists coming, we must offer them more
than coastal crowding and polluted beaches. A clean coast is our bread and
butter. Without it, we would go hungry. Our community was shaped by the
tides, as any surfer can tell you. Now it is time to give back. If every
beach-goer and surfer would pick up one grocery bag worth of trash before
they left, our beaches would be clean.
Beach cleaning is a ritual that is
based in service, consideration and respect for natural beauty. Every time
I bend down to pick up a straw I am saying a physical prayer. These prayers
also serve as wishes that others will join me in this atonement for mankind's
wicked ways. See you at the beach... and bring gloves.  |
