Julie McLaughlin

I’ve done it. I quit cold turkey. It is harder than I thought. I was often tempted; in fact, I occasionally slipped up, but I think I’m on the road to recovery.

My name is Lindsey and I am a plastic bag addict.

There are billions of us around the world. Over 300,000 tons of plastic bags clog Calgary’s landfills each year and more choke waterways worldwide and many are eaten by wildlife.

So I have vowed to go completely plastic bag free for one month. And not just the grocery-store variety. Everything. No green garbage bags, no Ziploc baggies, no vegetable bags, no… no… no....

Week 1

I’m stoked. I’m really doing something to help the planet. The first few days have been relatively easy, but today is the day to clean the litter box. I scoop my fat, black kitty Buster’s poop into a Tupperware container bought especially for this purpose and walk it out to the dumpster in the alley behind my apartment. Cleaning out the cat box is nasty and stinky at the best of times, but using a Tupperware container instead of a bag doesn’t make it any worse. There aren’t even any “cling ons” left in the Tupperware after I empty it.

The worst is over. I’m feeling proud of myself.

But towards the week’s end it gets worse. I’ve been putting off taking out the kitchen garbage and now it smells like a science experiment gone horribly wrong. I hang over the dumpster picking out slimy cucumber ends, soggy tea leaves and… well, I’m not sure what it used to be, but now it’s an oozy mess.

Earlier this year, council passed a motion initiated by Ald. John Mar to investigate ways to curb Calgarians’ plastic bag consumption. Less than four per cent of plastic bags are recycled in Calgary (better than the national average of three per cent), the rest take 400 to 1,000 years to break down in a landfill. They don’t even completely break down. Tiny bits of insidious plastic seep into our soil and waterways and, eventually, into the food chain. In May, a report to council on plastic bags suggested there would be strong opposition to a ban and it would be better to work with the retail industry to curb consumption on a voluntary basis — no ban.

Week 2

Grocery shopping. I collect my reusable bags and old yogurt containers (for bulk items) and have a successful shopping trip, with the exception of the strange look the check-out clerk gives my bulk containers. I’m feeling suitably smug on my walk home — until my yogurt container of peanuts explodes in the bottom of my cloth bag. I wrangle the errant peanuts back in the container. The smugness returns as I survey the neatly stacked containers in my pantry. It’s a positive change from the usual tangled mess of loose bags.

After dinner one night I reach for the Saran Wrap to cover the leftovers. It’s not a bag, but it’s pretty much the same thing, so instead I put a plate over my bowl.

Cat litter time again. I bang and bang but there are still “cling-ons” stubbornly hanging onto the Tupperware. I inspect the caked-on litter as I shuffle back to my apartment and debate whether to clean it in the kitchen sink or the bathtub. What’s worse: where we eat or where we bathe? I choose the kitchen sink and try not to think about it as I wash vegetables later. My other half doesn’t need to know about this. He would be horrified.

I finally break down and tell him. But only after dinner.

He is horrified.

While Calgary won’t be getting a bag ban anytime soon, other municipalities have “banned the bag.” San Francisco was the first North American city to ban single-use bags, followed closely by the northern Manitoba town of Leaf Rapids and a couple of Quebec municipalities. Canadians use more than six billion plastic bags a year, and produce 16 to 18 kg of total plastic waste per person.

Week 3

It’s not my imagination. I swear the garbage gets slimier every time I take it out. As I frantically try to flick something that resembles a giant booger off my finger, I wonder if Mother Nature is testing my commitment. I resist the urge to gag. It doesn’t help that my other half refuses to partake. He won’t get his hands dirty by taking out the garbage slop now that it isn’t bound in a plastic bag. Right now I want to tell him and Mother Nature to go to hell. Lots of soap. More scrubbing.

Problems arise that I never considered while preparing for this experiment. Cheese, for example. There is just no way to keep it from getting hard without a bag — Tupperware doesn’t work; I tried. Neither does wrapping it in its own packaging. So now, I’m cutting off big chunks of dried-up cheese and throwing them away. I consider using bread bags that will get thrown out anyway, but that would be cheating.

Gross garbage. Dry cheese. My resolve is weakening.

For people who want to cut back on plastic bags there are a number of products to help make the switch. From mesh produce bags and nylon bags, which crush down into a tiny pouch, to compostable bags made from cornstarch, there are more and more alternatives to plastic.

Week 4

Cross-country skiing. I drop my trousers beside the snowy trail and reach for the toilet paper. Shit, it’s in a plastic bag. Damage done. I guess I need to buy a dry sack for the T.P.

Later, I eat my fruit cup and reach for a Ziploc bag to put the empty can in. Sigh. Since my only other options involve littering, or my backpack getting sticky, I use the Ziploc bag and wash it when I get home.

It’s the last day of my experiment. To celebrate the month (well 28 days, but it’s February so that counts as a month) we stop for fudge in Banff. Unfortunately, it gets plopped in a plastic bag and loses some of its charm.

The Green Future

I am continuing to eschew plastic bags for shopping, cat litter and garbage. I just suck it up and hold my nose while I wash the garbage bin. The litter isn’t that bad.

I now have reusable bags stashed everywhere so I don’t get stuck without one. I have returned to using Ziploc bags though, especially for cheese, because I religiously rinse them and reuse them — I have Ziploc bags older than some pairs of underwear. I also started to reuse bread bags for cheese and produce to extend their lifespan. After all, reuse is one of the three Rs.