litter.

I’ve long appreciated the portable nature of some of God’s tastier creations. The banana, for example, is specifically designed to be enjoyed en route. Its thick skin protects the delicious insides from damage and just begs to liven up my painfully dull brown lunch bag with its bright yellowiness. This magical fruit’s usefulness doubles when enjoyed behind the wheel; not only does it serve as conveniently self-packaged sustenance, but also as a declaration to other motorists of one’s own superiority due to a commitment to healthful snacking.

However, as soon as the banana is consumed, the peel’s former glory is abruptly forgotten. The skin that was once a marvelous example of God’s handiwork quickly transforms into slimy, rottening trash adding unnecessary grossness to a cup holder that is already lined with a layer of goo that fluctuates between melty and hard depending on the temperature. The idea of allowing such a disgusting instrument to even momentarily linger in my car’s cabin is too much to bear. It is at this point that my Super Mario Cart reflex sets in and I expel the banana peel from my car via sunroof, creating a serious hazard for any Koopas or Toadstools driving behind me.

Almost this precise scenario transpired some months ago while Angela rode passenger in my car. The very moment my rear view mirror showed the discarded peel colliding with the roadway behind us, Angela set into a wicked tongue-lashing cast passionately at my side of the car: “What do you think you’re doing?! That’s littering! You can’t litter!”

“Litter? That’s not litter” I replied. “It’s a banana peel. It’s completely biodegradable. I’m sure in ten minutes some bird will be using it to build a nest for its chicks.” Well aware that Angela is a complete sucker for applying the human family dynamic to animals and objects, I pursued this course. “Sure. It’s Monday. They’ll probably do it together as a family home evening activity. It’s all good. Don’t worry.”

Angela’s mind may have gone spiraling into a world of highly spiritual bird families, but mine stayed focused on litter. Never had I considered that a banana peel might be considered litter. It’s just a peel; completely natural, and biodegradable. How could such a thing be litter? If I hadn’t eaten the banana out of the middle and rather discarded the peel with the banana still attached, that wouldn’t constitute litter—just an unfortunately misplaced banana. Such a situation would make of me a victim, not a perpetrator. If a banana peel is litter, then what isn’t litter? Can I throw nothing from a moving car with being branded a litter bug?

The rest of our drive was silent, Angela infatuated with her vision of bird families and I grappling with the philosophical definition and ramifications of litter: “What exactly is litter? Certainly, all reasoning parties would uniformly deem an empty soda can discarded at a public square to be litter. But what if that soda can were full? Or an iPod? I doubt anyone would complain if the public square was lined with free soda or iPods. Is it monetary value then that determines whether or not a discarded thing constitutes litter? If so, then what exact value draws the line between litter and non-litter? Five cents? Ten cents? In that case, pennies themselves would be considered litter, making the United States government the largest litter distributor of them all. Furthermore, doesn’t such a value-based definition of litter necessitate that those police officers who issue citations for littering receive training in small item and litter appraisal. We can’t have them issuing tickets all willy-nilly."

Presently, I believe the only way to come to any certain conclusion would be to actually engage in the intentional discarding of a number of items in the direct presence of an on-duty police officer and see which items lead to citation and which do not. Those items which yield citations could be classified as litter. Those items that do not yield citation could be classified as misplaced property. I very much trust this method of engaging in a questionable activity in the direct presence of a police officer as a way to determine the legality of that questionable activity, for by it I came to discover that tickling an on-duty police officer against his will leads to citation almost every time.