Friday, February 24, 2012

Opry Waste Land

I’ve stowed away on a business trip with my hubby to Nashville. Having a blast – cowboys who play guitars are my thing. When not frequenting the Honky Tonks on Broadway, I’ve been using the time to write. I’m finding a quiet hotel room divinely inspirational, especially when I didn’t pay for it. Getting some good stuff written and catching up on all the blogs I profess to follow.

It’s all good, but I must say that I’m horrified at the collective waste of the average American traveler. That would be me this morning. The picture posted shows our breakfast table. By-passing the fancy dining room (the bill might give away my stowaway status on the T&E report), we opted for breakfast at the hotel coffee bar. I did carry in my own tea made in the room (with no option other than a paper cup because my travel mug is too big for the one cup machine), but there was no way around the rest of the plastic and paper waste if we wanted to eat.

We each ordered a little egg mcmuffin-like sandwich. Both came thoroughly over-microwaved in their own plastic encasement that could have held six mcmuffins rather than just the weenie one. We also ordered some fresh fruit to share. It came with a huge plastic coffin too. Add to that the plastic water bottle for the water my hubby ordered, the paper napkins, and then the biggest waste of all – a thick cardboard tray to carry our delicacies the twenty feet or so to our table.

All that crazy waste and I’m just one unofficial resident at the hotel. The other seven thousand or so (we’re staying at Gaylord Opryland – it is HUGE), certainly created plenty of waste themselves. And beyond that number are all the other hotels in Nashville and beyond. Why are we allowed to do this? When the majority of the earth’s population struggle to put food on the table, we throw away what must be hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of containers, plastic utensils, paper cups, and napkins just for breakfast! The magnitude of this waste overwhelms me this morning. 

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