I’m crammed into the middle seat of an oversold United flight, sandwiched between a close-talker and a person that is half in my seat in addition to his. Along comes the flight attendant, and even though I want to sleep this nightmare away, my coffee addiction is calling. I contort sideways to reach my bag at my feet, glad that I’m only 5’3” tall, or this maneuver would be physically impossible even with years of yoga. I’m just barely able to loop a pinky and remove my Klean Kanteen insulated thermos and present it to the aisle. The stewardess looks annoyed at my offering, then pours the coffee instead into a Styrofoam cup transfers it to my vessel, and then throws the cup away.
I can barely contain myself , but decide that today I won’t give her my rant: that we could power one million cars if we gave up our addiction to petroleum-based plastics; that Americans throw away half a billion plastic bottles a week, enough to circle the globe twice; or that most plastic ends up in landfills, oceans and fish bellies, and is never ever recycled.