Litter in Skaneateles

One clear plastic POWERADE bottle, “Fruit Punch” flavor, cast aside on the way to school with the black lid replaced and secure — which I guess is half thoughtful — the rosy dregs already frozen solid.

In the midst of 24 hours of snowfall, a piece of litter that escaped burial: an empty, blue Trident pack, “Original Flavor,” bearing a tiny note on the edge reading, “Dispose of Properly” with an icon of a person holding one hand above a wastebasket. This admonition is only 6/16th’s of an inch high; perhaps they didn’t see it.

One jewel-encrusted $10 BA-DA BLING New York Lottery card that could have paid  $3,000,000 if any of those 16 numbers had matched the winning numbers, but did not.

At the intersection of Jordan and Austin, one Sparks Malt Beverage can, slightly the worse for its time in the road, its dents and dings sparkling like the facets of a gem under passing headlights. Of Sparks, Wikipedia notes, “Its critics dislike the high acidity, sweetness, and blatantly artificial flavor. Ironically, fans like the beverage for the same reasons, although the caffeine and high alcohol content, as well as the herbal components, also play a factor. Sparks also has a tendency to change the color of the tongue and teeth temporarily, after consumption of several of these beverages, due to FD&C Yellow No.5. In some regions this discoloration is referred to as ‘Sparks Mouth’.”

On a moonlit dog walk, one blue and gold tin of Skoal Long Cut Mint, “A Pinch Better.”

One black plastic lug nut cap; one yellow plastic lid from a tub of Huggies Wipes (tub and wipes not included); one thin white metal disposable box cutter, twisted, bent and disposed of.

One crushed Coors Light can; one nasty piece of purple plastic; one pearl & silver earring; one worksheet on Human Embryology with a recap of all the cloned animals thus far. My favorite is Cumulina, the first cloned mouse, although I did enjoy the names of the first cloned monkeys: Neti and Ditto.

One crushed Gatorade bottle; several sheets of the Sunday Syracuse Herald-Journal, many of which were half-frozen to the sidewalk; one Energizer AA battery; one empty Mike & Ike box inviting me to “Taste the NEW FLAVORS” and one empty can that held Milwaukee’s Best beer.

In reference to Milwaukee’s Best, I must say this: It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to cite a more inaccurate assessment, a greater disparity with reality, a more fundamentally erroneous product name. Whether the point of comparison is historical brews of Milwaukee, such as Pabst Blue Ribbon in its prime, or contemporary beers, this pallid offering is not now, never has been, nor, I venture to say with certainty, will it ever be Milwaukee’s best. For starters, you can get better Milwaukee-brewed beer here, here, here, here, and here. In fact, you can even get better beer here. “Milwaukee’s Best” it’s not. Unless, for the sake of argument, media relations, sales and cordial discussions over lunch with your BATF rep, you seek to define “best” as cheapest, least flavorful, most widely available. In that event, you might have a case, or at least a six-pack.

A thaw reveals a bumper crop. Beer cans: Bud Light (2), Yuengling, Labatt’s Blue; cigarette packs: Newport Lights (one puff and you’re Commodore Vanderbilt waving to the ladies on shore), Parliament (one puff and you’re dozing in the House of Lords); a wine cork; a Wilson tennis ball; an empty plastic bottle that held Vitamin Water; a Mallow Cup wrapper; one Monster Energy XXL can; one huge plastic bag; one beaded lanyard.

A button, which I at first mistook for pirate gold, and something off a car, that surely it must need.