TO LIVE AND RECYCLE IN LA

My good friend and yours, FFF, is a recycling fanatic. Now that I think about it, he's quite the civilian humanitarian - saving the rainforest, feeding the hungry, helping the fight against malaria, contributing to rebuilding New Orleans, all while working to become a doctor. I, meanwhile, do my part by taste-testing bourbon every night and getting up in time to watch The Price Is Right's Showcase Showdown.

Anyway, he's a recycling fanatic. One room in his apartment is dedicated solely to the storage of recyclables. Glass, paper, aluminum, tin, everything - it all is saved and loaded once every two weeks and taken 20 miles away to a recycling center. Augusten Burroughs' apartment and his hundreds of bottles of Dewar's have nothing on FFF.

So, I've been inspired by FFF on occasion to get my recycle on.  Coupled with Al Gore, I finally took a stab at it earlier this year. On my first attempt, I saved up a modest carful of items, googled "'recycling center' 'los angeles", printed a list of nearby locations, and set out to save the world.  Four hours later, having not found a single location and instead having found a million cars on the 101, I gave up.  I was defeated.

Last week I saw an actual recycling center with my very own two eyes and decided to take another stab at it. I again saved up a carful of water bottles and headed to the RC. This time, though, there were 15 people in front of me, all with shopping carts full of items.  I figured I'd come back later at an "off-peak" time.

Oh yeah - then I went to this private event last night where my man Luda was performing. As if my sweet ride (2005 Honda Accord, factory rims, what up) didn't already stick out from the Phaetons, Bentleys, and SLKs, imagine how cool I looked when the valet brought my car around with trashbags full of bottles and cans in front and back seat. Our conversation:

Me: "You ever been in one of these before?"
Valet: "What?"
Me: "Honda Accord.  Pretty fast, huh?"
Valet: "Uh-"
Me: "Hey man, I'm just trying to save the world-"
Valet: "No, no, it's good man, it's good.  That's...good...of you."

Then I laughed heartily to the sky, did a cartwheel, slipped him a few Washingtons, and was on my way.

Anyway, just a reminder that it only takes a little to help a lot. Check out some of those links above. Do it for FFF.



FFF, circa early 2006. Location unknown.  I'm assuming he was fleeing from a bank robbery attempt.

CLEAN, OLD-FASHIONED HATE

I cried yesterday.Over a football game.Well, honestly, it's a little more than just a football game.Some opportunities don't just hang around for 4 years.Some football teams don't stay young, inexperienced, and outmatched forever (no link provided to sites of teams I hate).
The back-and-forth of every possession of that game was one of the most emotionally wrecking things I've ever experienced. So when the result was final, I walked to my room, laid down, and wept. Typing that feels almost as silly as it probably sounds, which is probably almost as silly as it felt. But I don't know if I've wanted anything to happen more in the sports in my entire life. More than that, never before have I anticipated and actually BELIEVED in an outcome of ANYTHING so much.
It's rough loving college football.
I'll see you in Jacksonville next weekend. For the sake of my blood pressure, someone please talk to the quarterback.
-Scotty