People Are Nasty

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I finally moved from the campground where I’ve been acting as camp host to my very-own-for-the-summer campground.

I’d been told to leave my supplies and tools at the temporary campground, so I arrived at my campground with no broom and no shovel and no garbage bags. I couldn’t sweep the restrooms, and I couldn’t clean the fire rings. I needed to work at least a couple more hours, so I set out to pick up micro trash.

I spent over an hour and a half removing bits of trash from the ground. The campground only has ten campsites, so I wasn’t dealing with a very big area. The trash seemed older here: the metal bottle caps were rusty and the plastic ones were squished into the dirt. This year is the first time this campground has had a host, so I guess no one’s picked up micro trash in a long time. Maybe it’s never been done.

After I combed the campground for stray paper, plastic, metal, and glass, I walked the half-mile dirt road that leads from the campground to the highway. I walked with my plastic grocery store bag and picked up trash all the way to the highway and all the way back. The road was cleaner than the campground. I found an empty Corona bottle, a few bottle caps, a bag that once held candy, and some tiny bits of this and that.

The grossest thing I found all day? A condom.

At the back edge of site 4, where the campsite has almost turned into the forest, I found an unwrapped, unrolled condom on the ground. I’m going to assume it had been used. I grabbed a good size piece of loose plastic out of my makeshift trash bag and touched the condom with the plastic and not my fingers.

Let me say, I applaud the use of condoms. I advocate for the use of condoms. I’m glad someone was wise enough and mature enough to use that condom. But for goodness sake, once that condom did its job, why was it not put into a trashcan?

To be fair, the condom looked as if it had been lying on the ground for quiet a while, and the campground only officially opened a few days ago. Maybe there are no trashcans in the campground in the off season. But if ever there were something packed in that needed to be packed out, it was this condom.

This is just the sort of thing which will eventually give Woodsy Owl a heart attack.

Give a hoot! Don’t throw your used condom on the ground, ya idiot!

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now my (male) partner and I (a woman) have a travel trailer we can pull with our truck. We have a little piece of property, and when we're not traveling, we park our little camper there. I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

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