reduce, reuse, recycle

I had an eventful walk home from work today. For, I was given a fresh look at the classic 90s catch-phrase, reduce, reuse, recycle. And I thought I'd share with you my findings:

Reduce,

Or the lack there of, as I was at the grocery store picking up some mid-week necessities, and managed to spend $45 in the the 10 items or fewer lane. This might be due in part to the landmark decision I made to buy the 2lb. block of Cabot Cheddar instead of Col's usual 8oz. cheese-crumb. Now maybe we can go longer than two days without running out.

Reuse.

There is an ancient barber shop in my town that seems to have been trapped in a time capsule. The chairs are retro, the grimy linoleum floors are retro, and the faded posters on display show hairstyles from the 1950s. I walked by the window and saw it glaring back at me. 56 years. That's what the poster says: 56 years. The cartoon letters look like pubic caterpillars. For they're been written out using, I imagine, 56 years-worth of hair trimmings. Trimmings of all colors and textures. The funny thing is, I've never seen anyone in there getting their hair cut. Ever. So where did all those trimmings come from?

Recycle.

Not far from the barber shop and the grocery store is the YMCA. I walk by there quite often and see parents picking up their children from afternoon activities. This time, as I neared the front entrance, a little girl about 7 or 8 busted out of the door singing, "There's a place in France, where the naked ladies dance. There's a hole in the wall where the men can see it all!" Her father followed her out to the street, blushing all the way.

I had to smile. That was MY song when I was her age—20 years ago!—and I'm sure my father was horrified. Still, it will never grow old, will it? So long as there are silly little girls whispering in each others ears, "Naked ladies, pass it on!"