JUST ABOUT EVERY MORNING, I WALK my dog in the park by home. It’s a nice park, recently renovated, so everything still has a freshness about it. During the week, there are after school programs for kids. In the summer, there is a camp. There are many public meetings each week. Various groups take over the community rooms or the barbecue pits to host a variety of events.
Frequently, there are family gatherings for kids’ birthdays or grampa’s retirement, or just because it is a pleasant place for a family to relax for the day in the sun and let the kids run around playing whatever it is kids play these days.
Every Saturday, there is a Farmers’ Market and hundreds of people show up to buy that week’s vegetables and flowers. Over the course of the last few months, I have noticed that there is a large social aspect to this Farmers’ Market — the proprietors get to know their customers and there is a regular give-and-take about the latest news and gossip.
Each week, people come for breakfast and leave with armloads of produce. The farmers leave with a lighter load, but heavier pockets, and the city has made money and provided a service to the community.
In general, the park is a wonderful thing and the people who frequent it are decent folk. But, humans being human, there are those who take advantage. There are those people who leave their trash strewn about for the Monday morning clean-up crew to come in and remove. There are those farmers who throw out their excess or beginning-to-rot produce, which becomes a treasure trove for the local possums and seagulls.
I hate those people, mostly, because I can so easily identify with them.
As a young man, full of vim and vinegar, I used to be one of the guys who would throw trash out my car window. I’d just toss trash on the ground when walking and, not only would I not care, I would actually justify my actions. I liked to use the fine logic of, “if everyone put their trash away, there would be no need for a janitor, and then someone would be out of a job, so actually my being a selfish, brutish, boor is helping to employ people. It’s a good thing.”
Perhaps it’s age that has mellowed me and allowed my mothers teachings to come to the top again, but I hate it when I walk through the park, or along the boardwalk, or across the sand and see trash everywhere. Perhaps I just grew up and have become an adult and realize that being a selfish, brutish pig is not who I want to be and doesn’t help society. Perhaps I have witnessed enough graffiti to really despise anyone who would deface another’s property.
As a lawyer, I see the seedier side of humanity often displayed at its worst. I see people being greedy, grabby, lazy, self-destructive and uncaring about their fellows. I see love betrayed, agreements broken, promises shattered and families destroyed... frequently, over something as minor as money.
People forget the big picture — that we live in a larger context than our own microscopic needs. The family that leaves a picnic table covered in barbecue sauce and chocolate frosting, with chicken bones strewn about, is just as short-sighted and self-absorbed as the soon-to-be ex who thinks it’s wise to drain the bank accounts and withhold the kids from their spouse.
The motivations are different, but the result is the same. Hurt feelings and hatred develop when we act badly. I have no idea who left the picnic tables dirty, but I know that my immediate reaction was slander all who use them. I don’t even have to clean up after them, but I resent them for leaving the park in worse shape than when they found it.
The parks and the beaches are open to everyone. That is the right and proper way for a civilized society to be. But part of being in a civilized society is having people act civilly. It’s time for the city to remind our residents and our guests and visitors that, just because the parks and beaches are free to enjoy, doesn’t mean that they can treat it like their home.
We have laws that make it illegal not to pick up after your dog. We have laws that make it illegal to litter. What we need are some gentle reminders along the lines of those signs that remind me to “curb my dog.” We spend thousands of dollars on trash can wrappers reminding people there’s no smoking, let’s up that to include “No Littering.”
DAVID PISARRA is a Family Law Attorney in the Santa Monica law firm of Pisarra & Grist. He (310) 664-9969 or
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on July 31, 2007. Read the original PDF.