I was dropping off my recycling at the Kanawha Country Solid Waste Authority Recycling Center on Slack Street when a man there looked at me and said, wryly, “Saving the world, one plastic bottle at a time.” I took it he realized it was an uphill battle, but it was still important enough to do. I gathered that because he had more cans and bottles than I did.

According to the website GreenWaste.com: “The amount of wood and paper we throw away each year is enough to heat 50,000,000 homes for 20 years.” In my mind, that makes recycling a national security issue. If we didn’t throw all that paper away, would we be closer to energy independent? GreenWaste.com says so. “Aluminum cans account for less than 1% of the total U.S. waste stream, even so, the energy required to replace just the aluminum cans wasted in 2001 was equivalent to 16 million barrels of crude oil, enough to meet the electricity needs of all homes in Chicago, Dallas, Detroit, San Francisco and Seattle.”

Another way to reduce waste is with reusable shopping bags. I leave mine in the trunk of my car so I always have them. When I was researching my children’s book Sea Turtle Rescue I learned that sea turtles mistake plastic shopping bags for food, eat them, and die. (I know there aren’t any sea turtles in West Virginia, but you would be surprised how far those bags can travel.) If you don’t want to bother with reusable bags, at least take the store bags back to the store and drop them off. They are recyclable, too.

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There’s a tiny little corner in the backyard that we’ve put to good use. Last fall I cut out an overgrown bush and the poison ivy growing around it. We discussed what to do with that section of yard several times. Flowers? Grass? A garden?

My role was digging up and hoeing the earth so it was plantable. (It’s really too small to bother with a tiller.) My wife did the planting and my daughters fertilized and watered it. Since then, we’ve kept it watered and mostly weed free.

A couple nights this week, I’ve used vegetables from our garden to fix dinner…a tomato in the pasta and a grilled squash with pork chops. That’s been fun, but my wife and I have both agreed that we’re glad there is a farmer’s market close by so we don’t have to rely on our little plot to feed ourselves.

Another lesson learned in childhood I suppose. We had a garden for many years growing up. My mom could tell me, I’m sure, but I expect I had to be coerced to go work in the garden; planting and weeding and then pulling up potatoes and carrots and picking squash and tomatoes. This whole experience has made me wonder if our lack of “connection” with the earth has made many of us take it for granted. Many of us don’t get our hands dirty anymore so we don’t know what joy it can bring us.

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The recent Sesquicentennial celebrations for West Virginia Day got me thinking about another “centennial” celebration I lived through…the nation’s bicentennial.

At nine-years-old, I didn’t realize the historical significance and context of the year. Think about it: Saigon fell a little more than a year before in April 1975. Gerald Ford was president, after becoming Vice President following Agnew’s resignation and then President following Nixon’s. The country was ending a long period of tumult and turmoil that included protests and riots. And we all thought disco music was great.

Flash forward 37 years and tomorrow is another Fourth of July celebration. There is discontent and frustration here, but to me it doesn’t seem to be as bad as it was for the Bicentennial. We are ending two wars, and there is social and political unrest. We are slowly coming out of a recession.

My biggest question, at this point, is what do we call the 250^thanniversary of our nation’s founding in 2026? Quarter Millennial? Bicenquinquagenary? Sestercentennial? Semiquincentennial? Those are all options…

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Goodness knows, I don’t agree with everything that happens in West Virginia. I’m often frustrated, annoyed or left shaking my head at the things our “leaders” say and do.

From an interesting article on the West Virginia Culture and History website about West Virginia statehood I learned that the movement to separate actually goes back quite a bit further than I realized. West Virginians were making noises about independence from East Virginia more than 30 years before it actually happened. I can just imagine what those days were like and I’m sure some West Virginians questioned what their leaders were attempting to do back then, too. They probably shook their heads too.

I’ve never tried to hide my roots. I’ve always been proud to say I’m from West Virginia, no matter where I’ve been. With my accent, it would be pretty foolish to even try, of course, but the thought never crossed my mind. Over the years I’ve had the opportunity to travel quite a bit, making stops in Europe, South America and Africa. You would be surprised how many people from outside the United States know exactly where West Virginia is and know of it as a green, beautiful rugged state.

Happy Birthday!.

I find myself striking up conversations with total strangers when I go out: I make jokes with people as I walk into the grocery story, I chat with hostesses and waiters in restaurants (I always make it a point to ask how they are) and I smile at strangers walking down the street.

Dad exploring Summersville Lake at winter pool.

As a kid I never understood why Dad talked to people he didn’t know when we went out. I remember asking him “Do you know that person?” He always just smiled and said “No.” He talked (and still talks) to everyone. He makes silly jokes to people, seemingly catching them off-guard, but he almost always gets a response. Often, that person smiles and they share a laugh. Occasionally, he finds out something important like a tip on an easier way to get someplace or where there is a secret deal that only “locals” know about.

Dad: The same spot at summer pool. I learned to dive first…

Talking to strangers is just one lesson I learned from my father. He taught me to laugh often, to appreciate live music and to not be afraid to dance. He taught me to be curious and to figure out how things worked. I remember him bringing home broken electric motors or closed circuit cameras from work for me and my brother to take apart. I’m not the most mechanically gifted person in my family, but I do have a solid understanding of what makes things move. That knowledge has served me well many times over the years.

Thanks Dad. Happy Father’s Day.

Now I have to run out for a bit. Maybe I’ll meet someone new….