spectrum
by
Lizz Winstead
Michael Byers
illustration by
The great family heirloom
is quickly being replaced
with craptastic cheapsakes.
Life in the Green Zone
The ongoing eco follies of Lizz
Winstead. This time, she sounds
off on junk in the family trunk
After 40 years, my parents recently sold the home I grew up in. As we
cleaned out the attic, my sister and I scored. Mary nabbed an old steamer
trunk she transformed into a coffee table; I snatched up my grandmother’s
vintage washtub to use as a planter for a beautiful array of impatiens
flowers until the whole thing became a snack tray for my dogs, Edie and
Buddie. Now it serves as a lovely newspaper recycling bin.
I blather on and on about this because it reminded me yet again that the
great family heirloom is quickly being replaced with craptastic cheapsakes
that, instead of being passed down from generation to generation, are
being passed down from generation to generation of landfills. As we sink
further and further into the quicksand of our disposable society, there are
fewer and fewer treasures to leave to our loved ones.
That gorgeous steamer trunk my sister Mary claimed? Pieces like
that have given way to the oh-so cherished nylon duffle bag. And the
laws of physics tell me that delightful item cannot be transformed into
a coffee table. No, once the Taiwanese-made zipper breaks, it will end
up in a garbage heap along with a zillion other bags emblazoned with
30 | february-march 2008
the same logos of some sporting goods outfit. Hundreds
of years from now, social anthropologists will look at
these things and conclude that 21st century humans
worshiped gods called Adidas and FUBU.
And my 100-year-old, classic metal washtub?
Well, we all know technology and mass production
put an end to those. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m no
Luddite. I’m not living in some weird, dark, nostalgic
place wishing I could go back to the good ol’ days
when women scrubbed clothes with lye soap in a tub
down by the river. (Although I wouldn’t mind a river
clean enough to wash clothes in.) I realize the washing
machine is a big improvement. But when big box stores
are selling washers for 300 bucks a pop, people rush out
and snatch them up with glee. And when it breaks, it’s
cheaper to buy a new one than to fix it. At which point
no amount of artistry is gonna transform that old, broken
box o’ fiberglass into a keepsake. No, it’s toss-it-to-thecurb time. So you have to ask yourself, “How many
bazillion centuries will those be cluttering America’s
waste yards?” The number is assholenomical.
I blame it on our growing use of the C word:
convenience. Yes, we have become a little too
comfortable relying on it, and consequently, seem
willing to sacrifice everything from quality, style, and most importantly
our environment, if it means our lives will be even just a smidge more
convenient. Convenience has its noose around our necks, and we won’t
be satisfied as a culture until we can have all of our needs met without
having to lift a finger, no matter what the cost to our world!
Americans have a warped sense of convenience. And the
inconvenient truth about convenience is that convenience creates
a ginormous amount of waste. The George Foreman Grill, the Presto
Burger, the Salad Shooter? Seriously—who were the people so
profoundly put out preparing salad the old-fashioned way that they
needed to invent a way of shooting it into the bowl? I don’t ever want
to know—it sounds like something creepy that happens in prison.
So how will all this convenience redefine the heirlooms of the future?
I have the sneaking suspicion that 100 years from now, my great-greatgrandchildren won’t be clamoring through my attic saying, “Oh look!
It’s one of those vintage Air Poppers. I think I’ll make a lamp out of
it!” The truth is, the word convenience has become interchangeable
with the word shortsighted. I hope we all remember that when we’re
looking for convenient solutions to stop global warming. ✤
Lizz Winstead is cocreator of The Daily Show, and former
cohost of Air America’s Unfiltered. She currently stars in
Shoot the Messenger, a satirical review of the media world
running in New York City (shootthemessenger.com).