The little town near where I live recently added an employee to its meager workforce — a trash inspector. Township officials claim the town makes money from the recyclables it collects. They are worried the town is losing revenue from residents mingling recyclables with regular trash. So, the township committee has decided to pay someone to inspect the trash. The inspector’s job is to cut open trash bags set out for collection that he suspects may have recyclables thrown in with the regular trash. It is, of course, a mere coincidence that the newly hired trash inspector is the mayor’s close friend.
I strongly doubt that the cost of the trash inspector’s salary will be outweighed by monies realized from 100% recycling compliance. Though I hate government mandates, I am not offended by recycling per se. I am offended about this potential intrusion on my own and other citizens’ privacy. One’s trash is one’s private property until it reaches the jaws of the trash truck.
I am very good about recycling recyclables. I am also very good about picking up after my several canine dependents. I am especially good about disposing canine “pickups” in the regular trash bags. So, if the newly minted trash inspector decides he should inspect the bags I put out at the road, his experience will be most unpleasant. I expect that my trash will be inspected only once.