Think back to the first time you and your friends tried mixing all the sodas in the pop fountain. You watched each different fizz cascade into the 64 oz. Big Gulp, mesmerized as the cola-colored puddle metamorphosed into a rust-colored, guaranteed gut-buster of a beverage. You thought to yourself, "Is this a good idea?"

And if you're anything like me, you said, "What the hell," and took a sip and even as you felt your Cheetoes and chocolate milk crawling back up your throat (with just a hint of Dr. Pepper), you swore to all your friends--you swore to God--that it was the "best thing ever made, try it, you gotta try it, just try it." And in the end, after fighting back your lunch, you decided it wasn't really that bad. And you took another sip.

That's what life is like in mredison's neighborhood. Welcome.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Freegans

Every morning I pass a group of guys who sleep in lawn chairs outside converted VW busses and scrounge from dumpsters for their sustanence. Until just a few days ago, I didn't realize a word existed to describe them. Now I know.

They're called freegans, and according to a piece on NPR the other day, they're the most extreme type of vegan. They take the minimalist element of the vegan diet and apply it to LIFE.

In the NPR piece a reporter becomes a freegan for a month. The story doesn't ring quite true. In fact, I'm pretty sure she was doing freegan-light, if at all. Listen to the piece. The reportage is suspect if the most significant thing you have to say about nearly eliminating your carbon footprint through non-consumption is that you craved Skittles.

On the other hand, I did learn about the legal aspects of dumpster diving.
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