Litter in Skaneateles

How good to be back to local trash. In Austin Park, sandwich wrappers from Subway, crushed cups and lids, stray plastic and paper, and a TOP FLITE XL 3000 number 3 golf ball, “Super Soft.”

On the stroll in to work: one empty pack of Marlboro Lights, one empty Budweiser tall can, and one vintage item: a receipt from the Western Lights branch of M&T Bank for an installment loan payment of $219.29 made on January 19, 2007.

A turn around the Austin Park pedestrian trail last night yielded about a dozen bits of paper and plastic, ripped baggies, crushed cups, bottle labels, as if hoards of tiny day-campers had torn into their food, half-crazed with hunger, and one sheet of notebook paper on which someone had lettered, in blue ballpoint pen: “Vote For the for crazy hat! Jake Sherman.” I’m not sure if Jake was the author of the message, the candidate, or both, but I will look for a crazy hat on the campaign trail.

Well, not really, just the M&T Bank deposit slip for account ****2763, from 2:14 p.m. yesterday, with this nice note at the end: “Thanks for visiting us today. We are happy to assist you!” Of course they’re happy; you just gave them $2,622.73. I’d be happy to assist you, too. Sadly, fewer and fewer people are littering money; I’m pretty sure it’s the price of gas going up and housing sales going down, but I sure do miss those nickels and dimes.

Probably falling under the category of “Lost” rather than “Litter,” but found nonetheless: one pink pig, said to be a Good Luck Pig, designed and signed by Lorrie Veasey, founder of Our Name Is Mud. The pig was found in a Skaneateles HS parking lot (of which there are several to accommodate those of the students too frail or disoriented to walk to school) with a few small chips on foot, tail and ear, but with its essential good humor intact. “Litter in Skaneateles” will host the pig until its owner comes forward.

Not a new topping, but a paper plate and sheet of wax paper that carried pizza, cast aside in Austin Park and covered with ants. Also, a chocolate ice cream bar wrapper, a crushed Barq’s Root Beer can, a receipt from the Hilltop Restaurant, wrappers from Dubble Bubble and Starburst Chews, two pieces of cellophane and a white paper cup.

Nestled in beds of grass along Jordan and Onondaga Streets: two Starbucks Frappuccino bottles, waiting for a power mower to turn them into glassy blasts of shrapnel. In the Austin Park lot, one gold hoop earring that had been run over a few times. On the way to work: scraps of clear plastic, dirty baggies, and long cellophane tops off cigarette packs with their golden tear strips waving in the morning breeze. The big prize today: one empty Capri Sun Roarin’ Waters pack, of which the makers note, “Water has gone from borin’ to ROARIN’. Our fruit-flavored CAPRI SUN Roarin’ Waters beverage is water, the way kids want it—a sensible solution to help your kids meet their daily fluid consumption needs.” It is also rumored that Roarin Waters is the perfect accompaniment to FLOMAX.

While the dew was still on the grass, Austin Park offered up three more golf balls, two Pinnacles and a Maxfli. On the way to work, three cans: two Mountain Dew and one Bud Light, as well as an empty pack of Marlboro Lights, and a wrapper from the litterer’s signature candy: Airheads. Light beer, light smokes, light candies, all perfectly suited for the unencumbered littering lifestyle.

In Austin Park, two more golf balls: a Titleist 3 HVC SOFT DISTANCE and a Pinnacle GOLD 4 FX SOFT, left behind by a golfer with a soft touch; another Poland Spring water “Eco-Shape Bottle,” which the litterers have truly embraced. In the Austin Park parking lot, a car dump: a paper Subway drink cub, a paper cup with a floral design, both with straws and lids, and an empty Wrigley’s Spearmint pack, with one chewed wad of green gum as the cherry on the litter sundae. The Halls Mentholyptus Lady who worships at St. Mary’s of the Lake usually parks in the Austin Park lot and drops her wrapper at the bottom of the steps at Jordan Street, but this past week she found a space on E. Austin Street and left her wrapper there.

All manner of trash this morning, including a faded red innersole from a sneaker, an unknotted plastic bag of dog poop thrown into a shrub at the corner of Onondaga and East Streets (”Thanks, neighbor!”), and many Mamba candy wrappers. I am still not sure why anyone would name a candy after a snake; Wikipedia notes, “When in the striking position, the mamba flattens its neck, hisses very loudly and displays its inky black mouth and deadly fangs. It can rear up around one-third of its body from the ground which allows it to reach heights of approximately four feet. When warding off a threat, the black mamba usually delivers multiple strikes, injecting its potent neuro- and cardiotoxin with each strike.” Available in strawberry, orange, lemon and raspberry. Also: tattered bits of cellophane, cardboard and foil, some blue strapping tape, and a receipt from the Lowe’s on Niagara Falls Boulevard in Amherst, New York. Thank you for waiting to get to Skaneateles before throwing that one out.