Showing posts with label water conservation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label water conservation. Show all posts

Thursday, March 27, 2014

bottled water: just say no!

There was a point in my past life when I bought a case of seltzer water a week. I developed the habit during graduate school when I felt perpetually ill from stress, lack of sleep and too much caffeine. Bubbly water seemed the only antidote to the buckets of bad coffee I drank to stay awake.

I traded the caffeine (and the stress) for more sleep when I graduated over a decade ago. But my habit of drinking seltzer water continued for several more years.  Then one day I looked at my recycle bin and noticed the way it overflowed with empty plastic. Why hadn't that bothered me before? Deciding that was way too much plastic for any one person to produce in a week, so I resolved to quit the habit. 

I still drink seltzer, but instead of buying twelve plastic bottles each week, I buy one or two glass bottles instead.

Just a week ago, if you'd asked me if I drank water out of plastic bottles, I'd have said "no way!" I wonder if my feelings of self-righteousness would have showed through. With the exception of "rare occasions" when a plastic bottle of water seemed unavoidable, I did not see myself as part of our growing bottled water problem. 

Then last weekend, we watched the documentary Tapped.  Have you seen it? It skewers the bottled water industry at every step of the product cycle: from extraction, where beverage companies haul water away from local communities who don't share in the profits; to packaging, where manufacture of the bottles relies on petroleum and harmful chemical elements (BPA when the film was made, antimony now); to testing, which is overseen by one FDA employee; to advertising, which misleads consumers into thinking the water is safer than tap water; to disposal which is turning our oceans into a "plastic soup."

After watching it, you'll vow to never touch another bottle of water again. That's what Steve and I said anyway. Of course, I was thinking in my I'm-already-all-over-this way about how I gave up bottled water years ago, but I didn't say that out loud.

The next day, I went to the coffee shop to work on my book. I don't do this every day - maybe once every one or two weeks.  After a long morning drinking decaf and writing, I decided I needed something to eat.

And I was thirsty.

I looked at my drink options: plastic bottles of water, plastic bottles of soda, and glass bottles of juice. 

I hesitated. I couldn't drink a bottle of water the day after watching Tapped! But I hate juice, refuse to drink soda (it's in plastic anyway) and couldn't stand the idea of another sweet drink after all the coffee I'd had (I'm not a black coffee kind of girl).

What should I do? I could hear the people behind me shuffling their feet in line. Their looks of "make up your mind!" drilled into the back of my head as I tottered on the edge of a panic-purchase.

My mind raced. I didn't have a reusable water bottle with me, and besides, would it be fair to bring my own drink after sitting in this restaurant using their electricity and wifi all day? I felt like I owed the proprietors my business.

So I did it. I pulled a crinkly bottle of water out of the ice, purchased it, and drank it. The day after watching Tapped.

Just this once.

Two nights later, I co-hosted a team-dinner for my son's soccer team. The other family provided drinks: two cases of water and a case of Gatorade. Egad! That was more water bottles than I wanted to be responsible for in a year!

An hour or two into the evening, I offhandedly mentioned how thirsty I was to Steve. The other mom heard me and kindly brought me a bottle of water. "Oh, thanks!" I said with a pained smile. I didn't know what to do. Could I sneak through the living room, return the bottle to the cooler, then rummage through her cupboards for a glass without her noticing? And would it matter if I did? Someone was going to drink that bottle of water, whether I did or not.

My friend stood in front of me, expecting me to guzzle down this drink with relief. Not wanting to be rude, I twisted off the plastic top with a crackle, and drank up.

Later, I noticed Steve doing it too.

Just this once.

Three days later, I volunteered to help out at my daughter's swim meet. I brought a reusable water bottle with me because all-day meets in hot indoor pools never fail to dehydrate me. In the afternoon, I sat at the scoring table entering meet results into a computer. Toward the end of the meet, things became frenzied as we worked to finish the events on time. I had drained my water bottle long before. Parched, I asked a swimmer if they could refill my bottle at a water fountain. Before I could stop her, another mom intercepted, explaining there was no need to do that because "We have a whole cooler of water bottles right here!" She was nice enough to bring me one.

And I drank it.

Just this once.

"Just this once" turned out to be three bottles of water within one week of watching Tapped!  That's hardly a record of abstinence.

If I were in high school trying not to get pregnant, I'd be in big trouble.

I still feel completely committed to the idea that I should never drink or purchase a bottle of water again. What I discovered, however, is how much our culture has acclimated to this idea of portable water. With bottles so omnipresent, other ways of accessing and drinking water (like large thermoses, pitchers and, imagine: CUPS!) have disappeared.

I'm sure I'm not the only person who watched Tapped and swore myself off of bottled water. And I bet I'm also not the only person to discover this can be a challenge.

As a country, we consume bottled water like it's...well...water. Check out the numbers. Between 2009 (when Tapped came out) and 2012, sale of bottled water increased by 1.2 BILLION gallons!




For the visual effect:
Data from the Beverage Marketing Corporation. Graph by Peter Gleick


The International Bottled Water Association (IBWA) cited a bright future for bottled water sales last spring, noting a 6.2% increase in bottled water consumption between 2012 and 2013.  According to IBWA, U.S. consumption rates work out to an average of 30.8 gallons of water per person per year!

But there's good news for conservationists too. San Francisco just banned the sale of bottled water on public property. How cool is that!?  As part of the ordinance, the city will also take steps to provide more "water filling stations" around town.  At least in San Francisco, public water won't go the way of the public phone.

While San Francisco marks the first major city to ban bottled water, smaller movements have led the charge. Concord, Massachusetts became the first city to implement a ban when it did so on January 2013. That same month, the University of Vermont became one of the first public universities to implement a ban on bottled water sales.  The movement continues to grow with other smaller communities and private universities getting on board. In the latest news, Western Washington University will remove bottled water from campus shelves in just a few days, on April 1st.

If you want to learn more about the movement to ban bottled water, check out the blog Ban the Bottle.

As for me, I'm regrouping. Over the past week, I discovered that really giving up bottled water is not a passive thing. I had no idea the "rare occasions" when I drank bottled water were so frequent. All of my nice friends and acquaintances caught me off guard with their kindness and generosity.

But now I'm ready for them: "Thanks so much, but I've given it up." It's as simple as "Just Say No!" If anyone asks why, I get a chance to spread the word.

So many world problems feel impossible and expensive to solve. This one is so easy.

In the U.S., public water is safe and free.

All we have to do is drink it!





Wednesday, September 19, 2012

4 minute shower - no way?

image from Going Green Consulting
 at  http://goinggreenconsulting.wordpress.com/category/water-conservation/


I am a shower hog.  A water glutton.  An H20 vampire.

And yes, a hypocrite.

In the morning, before Steve and Gareth leave for work/school, I chastise them for failing to unplug their cell phone cords.  Don't they know that wastes 2-3 kWh a year? (to give you some perspective: the average family uses about 4,000 kWh/year).  

Once I've secured the electrical grid, and the kw vampires have taken their leave, I enjoy a shower in all my self-righteous glory.

Quite frankly, with no one here to shame me, I'm surprised I manage to get out by the time they return home in the afternoon/evening. 

How long is it, really?  I don't know.  20 minutes?  It could be longer.

It's probably longer.

What do I do in there?  I have no idea. I think I fall into some kind of a water trance.  I also think I'm transition challenged.  I cannot bring myself to turn off that hot water and face the cold air outside. It's just so...cold.  Do they have Showers-Anonymous for people like me?  It's a disease you know. 

Like all maladjusted behavior, we can trace the roots of my excess to my childhood--or at least to graduate school.  While enrolled as a full-time student, I experienced both the challenge and trauma of studying graduate-level literature with an undiagnosed reading disability.

If you've ever been a graduate student or a teacher (or both!), then you know the work is never done, disability or not.   Wherever I went, my books went.  Like a line of faithful little ducklings, they followed along behind me, chirping at me incessantly over weekends, on road trips, during vacations: even in the bathroom.  They pecked at my time and trampled my sleep. Thinking they would drive me to madness with their river of words and ideas, I sought a place that, despite their webbed feet, they could not follow: THE SHOWER!

Oh, the bliss of those long nonliterary moments.  Something about that ritual of escape stuck.  Got a long day ahead? How 'bout one more minute in the shower? Cold outside?  Just hang out here in the steam.  Incidentally, the shower is also a really great place to grieve.  You can cry in there and your kids will never know about it. 

Over the years, I've made feeble promises to myself about improving, but when I'm in there I get distracted by the fact that there are no distractions.  I forget that I should turn off the water.  Then when I remember, I still don't want to do it.  So lame. 

Yesterday, I made these beautiful zuchini breads (yes, this matters to my shower story). I added precious ingredients: zuchinni and pecans from my local farmer; organic eggs from my co-op; and whole grain flour that I ground myself.  I popped those four fantastic loaves into the oven.  Yes.  Four.  Olivia has food allergies so hers contained local duck eggs and a combination of gluten-free flours that I also ground.  Basically, I did everything twice.

I'm telling you all that so you can appreciate how hard I worked on that darn bread.  I had planned to take my shower while it cooked (it takes at least an hour, so I figured even a hedonistic fool like myself can get a shower in that time, right?).  But you know how one thing leads to another.  By the time I'd cleaned the kitchen and prepared for my ritual of excess and debauchery, the timer on the bread said 4 minutes. 

Yikes! 

I had an appointment to get to, so I could not wait.  And I could not burn that bread.  So guess what folksies? When you've got bread in the oven, it's possible to take a 4 mintue shower!  Which tells me something distressing:  it must always be possible to take a 4 minute shower.

No worries.  I am not here to tell anyone to shorten their shower time.  I am in no position to judge or advise. This is my own personal tale of waste and woe.  I do want to make a personal commitment, however.  I will shorten my showers to a more reasonable time.  Which is?  Although I felt so proud of my 4 minute shower, I also thought it was a ridiculous limit for every day.  Right? 

Wrong. 

It seems most local water authorities think I've only shorted myself out of a minute. The Public Utilities Commission of Nevada (I figure Nevada knows a thing or two about saving water) has a great fact sheet on how to conserve water--including their 5 minute shower recommendation. 

Apparently, my family of 4 can save up to 20,000 gallons of water a year by taking 5 minute showers. How could I have worried about cell phone chargers wasting 2-3 Kw/year while ignoring this truly astounding water conservation opportunity?

Foolish foolish girl.

Intent on trying it again today (sans the bread imperative), I noted the time, jumped in, then bolted back out like a water phobic cat.  Shaking myself off victoriously, I checked the clock and realized I'd forgotten what time I'd started. 



But it was quick.  I know it was. 

I don't know if I can keep it up.  It's like giving up your morning coffee.  or butter.  or sex.

Still, I keep thinking: 20,000 gallons of water...