Drinking responsibly
Paper, metal, plastic straws all possess unique pros, cons
An early indication that plastic straws had become verboten in certain circles was when a fashion magazine I receive (with no discernible impact) promoted a tiny, expensive purse as the perfect size for a cellphone, lip gloss and “stainless steel straw.”
What? I’m supposed to be carrying my own straw? Made of … steel?
That’s a trendy response to the growing problem of single-use plastics littering our streets, beaches and oceans. My response? I drink with my mouth. Right on the cup or glass. Isn’t that part of the pleasure?
Given my preference, it’s been easy for me to inveigh recently against our consumerist society’s wanton use of plastics. A rare instance of my being in sync with pop culture’s outrage du jour, it’s how I happened to notice that other Americans are not heeding my wisdom but are in fact moving in quite different directions.
Like Donald Trump. And advocates for the disabled. And health watchdogs. The controversy over the simple drinking straw serves as a relatively lightweight reminder of how the definition of virtue varies more widely than today’s culturewarrior bullies could ever admit.
On the rare occasions when I need a straw and have a choice, I opt for paper; but irritation with a broken paper straw and spilled drink prompted a Trump campaign staffer to create Trumpbranded plastic straws — red, of course — to sell as swag. They debuted on July 19 and raised almost $500,000 in 10 days.
A snarky piece on Salon.com proclaimed, “New frontiers in sucking: Why is the Trump campaign selling plastic straws?” and answered its own question thus: “The right’s bizarre plastic-straw fetish is about making a lack of empathy central to conservative identity.”
We all know that Mr. Trump enjoys yanking any available chain, to put it kindly, but what if it’s actually the no-plastic position that lacks empathy? There are quite a few essays online asserting that sturdy plastic straws are the only way people with certain disabilities can drink without assistance and therefore enjoy meals in restaurants. To ban plastic straws, they argue, is to ban the disabled from public life.
And those paper straws I favor? They’re often manufactured with harmful chemicals. At least the Trump straws are BPA-free, reusable and recyclable.
When you think about it, this is a manmade ill that seems to spring from the desire to avoid work or inconvenience of any kind.
We could just drink straight from a real glass, but then the fast-food restaurant would have to hire someone to wash the glasses and wipe up our spills.
We could just drink from a glass, but that’s hard to do while driving.
We make choices like plastic straws to save money and time, but is that the actual outcome? What about other people’s jobs? What about our own quality of life?
At a posh bakery I visited a few weeks ago, my honey-lavender cake came in a biodegradable box, in a biodegradable bag, with a bamboo fork that broke the moment I sank it into the cake. Given my “to go” mandate, the bakery was making Earthfriendly choices. I wasn’t. I should have taken five minutes to sit down and use a metal fork on a china plate.
On days when time is the most precious commodity, though, I’m glad to have a choice. Bans are almost never the best answer; informed choices are.
According to one widely used estimate, unverified but based on manufacturers’ reports, Americans use 500 million plastic straws per day. Per day. Since there are only 329 million of us, that’s a lot of sucking.
I hate to admit it, but the president’s campaign might be onto something. The people who pay $15 for 10 Trump straws are going to hold onto them.
My color is turquoise, though, and my candidate has yet to emerge, so I’m waiting. And drinking responsibly.