Opt Out of the Yellow Page's Yellowed Pages!

After years of complaining about phone book litter by tree huggers and building owners alike, it seems as if Yellow Pages is finally getting the message that millions of Americans would like to see printed phone books disappear! I'd be willing to bet that it's been quite a while since most Americans turned, rather than scrolled, through the Yellow Pages. Yet it seems like another stack of these monstrous directories appears outside the front door of my building every few months or so.

Fortunately, the City of Chicago accepts phone books for recycling, but many towns and municipalities do not. Nor do many of Chicago's phone books find their way into a blue cart; most wind up rotting on the front steps or entry way, in the same place they were dropped off.

Late last year, cities began taking the matter into their own hands. It was Seattle, not a California city, who led the way in banning unsolicited phone book deliveries last fall, although a similar proposal found its way onto lawmakers' desks in San Francisco shortly thereafter. I rejoiced when I saw a posting last month on Tree Hugger that Yellow Pages has created a site for residents to opt out of receiving phone directories!

In Tree Hugger's interview with Neg Norton, president of the Yellow Pages Association, Norton said the company created the opt-out site because, "it doesn't make any sense for us to deliver phone books to people who don't want them." Amen! He also went on to predict that a very small amount of people would actually sign up to decline directory deliveries, as the company's surveys and studies show that 75% of households still use printed phone books.

Seventy-five percent seems awfully high to me; do 75% of households even have a land line anymore? At any rate, I went immediately to the opt-out site and entered my zip code. It showed that I was signed up to receive eight (eight!) directories a year, including the Guia Telefonica and the Russian Yellow Pages. Huh? I refused delivery of all of them. So if you're as sick of phone book litter as I am, take a minute to opt out, and pass this information along to any and every one you know who might like to opt out, too!

Phone Book Rant

Dear Local Phone Company,

PLEASE STOP SENDING ME PHONE BOOKS! Why must you cling to this archaic practice? Nobody uses them anymore, yet each spring they arrive on the doorstep of every resident in the city, regardless of whether they have a land line or not! I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but after all the money you spend producing these monstrosities and all the fossil fuels you burn by distributing them, only a minuscule amount actually wind up in peoples' homes. Most are either pitched, recycled (I'm hoping...), or left to languish on the same doorstep where you left them.

These books are massive and take up precious space, and they're hard to use; the few times I've tried, I've failed to find the business listings I was looking for, because it wasn't logically categorized. Yet when I then turn to the online yellow pages and enter any related key word, I can find what I'm looking for in a matter of minutes! In summary, the Internet wins. Hands down, every time.

I recycled the books that appeared in my lobby in April, and I recycled the unwanted duplicates you sent me when I moved. Surely you can understand my frustration at opening the door to my apartment building this afternoon and finding YET ANOTHER STACK OF PHONE BOOKS. I've yet to recycle this batch, and every time I see them in the foyer, my temper flares. Since I already disposed of the last two sets of directories you sent me this year, why on earth would you think that I'd want a third?!?

Here's a thought: in addition to touting your online billing practices as your company's way of "going green", why don't you save some real green-- financial and environmental-- by only issuing phone books to customers who specifically request them. Then you could spend all the money you'd be saving on studies that quantify all the trees you'd be saving. This would stop clogging our landfills with those despicable space wasters, and the tree huggers of the world would begin hugging your executives instead. I think it's something that you, as a company, should seriously consider. After all, your rival company doesn't harass its customers (and potential customers) by littering their entryways with giant, heavy, yellow doorstops... do you really want to let your main competition have the upper hand in this regard? I highly doubt it.

I implore you to at least think about giving the printing press a rest. And in the meantime, LAY OFF the unsolicited phone book deliveries! Thank you.

Sincerely,
ChicaGoinGreen

Don't Grab a Kleenex!

While we're still in the midst of cold and flu season, let me pose this question: do you know where your Kleenex comes from? For most of you, I'm guessing the answer is no. Instead of repurposing recycled paper content, giant corporations like Kimberly-Clark, Proctor and Gamble, and Georgia Pacific knowingly and actively participate in the deforestation of some of North America's most ancient forests. Greenpeace has been fighting Kimberly-Clark (makers of Kleenex, Scott, and Cottonelle, among others) since 2004 to adopt a more responsible approach to the manufacture of such disposable products. Kleenex has fought back, reluctant to change their destructive and wasteful ways. So now, nearly five years later, the battle rages on.

This article in today's New York Times reminded me of this fact and got me mad all over again. Think about it; do we really need to cut down trees that have been enhancing the beauty of our planet and providing forest animals shelter for hundreds of years, just so we can wipe our ass with (or blow our snot into) something shiny and new? NO! This nation's trend toward bigger and better, regardless of the cost, has only fueled these companies' desires to create 2-, 3-, or 4-ply, quilted, padded, and even moisturized personal tissue items.

Sure, they're soft. Sure, they're aesthetically pleasing. But the luxury is NOT worth the damage caused to wildlife and to the environment. For all the energy it takes to cut down, process, bleach, heat, and package the sad remnants of a once-majestic tree, those hefty costs are passed on to the consumer while our natural resources are destroyed. I'm no businessperson, but it makes far more sense to me to use recycled paper products, which are far more cost and energy effective, and manufacturers can instead pass savings onto their consumers while maintaining their profit margins!

Now, I'm not suggesting that everyone go back to carrying a handkerchief, because that's... well... gross-- but you can be a smart consumer and vote with your wallet. For example, Trader Joe's sells wonderful (and cheap!) paper products that are 100% recycled, use up to 80% post-consumer content, and are not whitened with any chlorine bleach. The tissue boxes are funny and even fashionable, and cost less than a dollar (and the toilet paper doesn't leave any remnants on your behind)! If you have a terrible cold and are going through multiple boxes of tissues a day and your nose has been rubbed so raw that you just have to get a box of ancient-forest tissue, I suppose I can look the other way for a bit, but for average, everyday use, recycled tissue reigns supreme!

A Good Deed Gone Bad

In a rare moment of financial stability, I made a $20 donation to an environmental non-profit organization last summer. Before I became a contributing member of this group, I distinctly remember reading the fine print on the donation slip about how they would NEVER sell my name to third parties, etc. I even got a free tote bag for my generosity. So I was saving the planet and saving plastic bags from the landfills-- what could be wrong with that?

Plenty, apparently, because the group I joined didn't sell my information-- they gave it away.

Shortly after my free gift arrived, I began receiving unsolicited mail from other environmental organizations. Wouldn't I join their efforts as well, to save the polar bears, to curb deforestation, to keep our wild places wild? I could become a member for just $25, just $16, just $9 a year, and would receive a free ruck sack, plush toy, or umbrella in return for my donation.

Before I know it, this deluge of charitable donation requests has expanded to include animal rights groups, scientific research labs, and even childrens' charities. Then I start receiving duplicate mailings from persistent organizations that had asked for (but did not receive) my help in the past. Next, the group I joined starts reminding me that they've been able to count on me for $20 in the past-- won't I give an additional $30 now to stop drilling in the artic before it's too late?

Some groups are so confident that I will contribute to their worthy cause that they send the free gifts up front-- I am the proud owner of three monogrammed pads of paper, five window decals, a handful of cards, three calendars, and more mailing labels than I can hope to use in a lifetime. I also get pre-printed petitions, addressed to my senators and congressmen, expressing my presumed outrage over some bill that has not been passed, or some policy that has not been enforced. All I have to do is sign at the bottom, print my credit card number on the back, and send it in.

Past presidents, prolific authors, and famous actors are writing to me almost daily about the plight of one underrepresented group or another, each plea more heartbreaking than the last. Wouldn't I like to save the blue-footed booby from extinction, give children with cleft lips a chance at a normal life, or feed and vaccinate scores of homeless animals? Of course I would, but I'm not willing to put myself in the poor house to do so.

Now, instead of feeling good about supporting a worthy cause, I feel like crap, because I can't afford to donate to every organization I feel passionately about. And because of my financial ineptitude, I will not be able to right all the wrongs in this world. One of my favorite sayings is "...to give freely of your time, your effort, and your means." I don't have any means, but I feel that I more than make up for it in the other areas, and c'mon-- two out of three's not bad, right?

Most annoying of all is the amount of paper wasted by these futile mailings. The gut-wrenching letters are sometimes three or four pages long, then there's a postage-paid envelope, a donation slip, glossy pictures of the free gifts I could receive, and more.

Some of the letters proudly state that they were printed on recycled paper using soy-based inks-- but since I never wanted these mailings in the first place, who cares!?! It's still junk mail that clogs up the postal system, that I have to take the time to shred and/or recycle, and it's cluttering up my life. I had signed up for all sorts of opt-out services a few years back, services that I will now have to find and sign up for all over again.

In the meantime, however, my course of action is to NOT renew my membership with this group, thus letting the polar bears drown and the grey wolves be hunted to extinction-- and hope they eventually forget my name and lose my number-- at least until I can afford to make a donation to another group-- one that won't exploit my good intentions.