kids, don't litter.

talking with liz on our way back from meijer about how annoying it is when people throw cigarette butts out the window of their vehicles has reminded me of a story.

the story is set in east grand rapids, which is generally regarded as the "high class" part of town. it's all bmw's and mansions and polo shirts as far as the eye can see. the grass is green. the trees are tall. everyone has a boat. it's actually a very beautiful area.

one morning, quite a few years ago, i was driving to my church for some kind of youth group fundraiser. i was stopped at the intersection of lakeside and robinson road. facing me, heading in the opposite direction, was a shiny new silver convertible. an older gentlemen was driving while two teenage boys sat in the back seat. it was most likely a father and his sons. probably rushing to make their morning tee-time at the country club. the father was sipping from a bottle of water. just before the light changed, i watched him gulp down the last few drops. screw the cap back on. and toss the empty bottle onto the side of the road as he drove past me. toss. the water bottle. on. the. side. of. the. road. and this was no highway we were driving on. it was right next to someone's front yard. i practically stopped my car in the middle of the intersection, my jaw agape with surprise and disgust. i might have expected that kind of arrogance and disregard for common decency and human responsibility from the teenage boys. but the father? way to set a good example for the youngsters, dad. it honestly makes my blood boil just thinking about it.

there are plenty of reasons why i find this kind of behavior loathsome. not the least of which being the simple fact that litter is unpleasant to look at. but if this man treats his own neighborhood with such carelessness, i shudder to think how he must behave in neighborhoods adjacent where people don't drive mercedes or live in homes the size of train stations.

i have trouble looking past little things like this. thoughtless actions, however small, almost always reveal larger attitudes lurking under the surface. for the rest of that morning i wavered between feelings of righteous indignation and depression at the thought that those boys were being raised to believe that the world was their own personal garbage can. by throwing his water bottle onto the ground their dad had basically said to them, "do whatever your hearts' desire, kids. someone else can clean up the mess."

i'm sure i don't need to wax eloquent about the dangers of that particular philosophy.