South Pond

I was walking through Lincoln Park today, and smelled something awful. The stench seemed to be coming from behind a large, makeshift fence, and after a block or so, I stumbled upon this sign, which explained the odor.

Basically, they are transforming the southern pond into an "urban ecosystem", returning native species of fish, plants, birds, frogs, and the like back to the area. I vaguely remember seeing something about the project on the news earlier in the spring; they had to kill off a number of the non-native plants and critters that were inhabiting the pond before the renovation, which made me sad, but I'm all for restored wetlands and furthering the native species and the like.

I'm not quite sure how I imagined they would go about "restoring the natural habitat", but I certainly was not expecting to see this:

Cranes and bulldozers and idle construction workers, oh my! I guess I never figured they'd have to do a complete demolition to make a natural restoration; I expected them to just make improvements to the existing pond. Not so. I'm looking forward to seeing the finished product, which the sign assures me will be "an outdoor classroom for students of all ages", I just find their restoration methods a bit ironic.

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

A Quiet Statement

I couldn't help but smile when I saw this "license plate" today; I myself am petrified to ride a bike in the city, but I certainly appreciate the sentiment!

I've Been Greenwashed!

I've been so careful about reading labels and dissecting the fine print lately, to make sure that the green, eco-friendly, and organic products I buy are, in fact, as pure as advertised. My vigilance is in large part to avoid falling victim to "greenwashing", which is a relatively new marketing ploy-- advertising that proclaims a product is "green" when it's really not. The suggestive wording on the packaging appeals to our subconscious as well as our eco-conscious, luring consumers who want to be more responsible in their product choices to buy what they're selling. However, all greenwashing really does is to get customers to shell out more money while (underhandedly) making them feel good about their decision to "go green". A sneaky and shameless tactic, indeed.

Until now, I've done a pretty good job of outsmarting the marketers-- like 100% natural soda (or yogurt, or granola bar)... made with high fructose corn syrup? Nice try! Environmentally themed t-shirts... woven from 55% polyester blends? For shame! Eco-friendly pesticides? Oxymorons! I know better than to fall for that, don't I?

Today, at my local big-box retailer, I was lured by the earthy green sheen of shampoo and conditioner bottles plastered with happy, earthy words such as "organic!" "natural!" "ultra whipped yogurt proteins!" and "sulfate free!" Topped with a rebate slip for 100% of the purchase price (printed on recycled papers, with soy-based inks), I was hooked. Sold!

(For those of you who are wondering, sulfates are cheap and effective chemical surfactants that are used in products from shampoos to face washes to toothpastes. Manufacturers like them because they're inexpensive and plentiful; they easily break down dirt and oils, and create a rich lather. Some popular sulfates used in cosmetics, however, are also registered pesticides and/or suspected carcinogens, hence the organic movement's attempt to make sulfate-free products. These products are equally effective and often less irritating to skin and eyes [and the environment!], but generally don't foam as well and can often cost more).

It wasn't until after I got my eco-hair cleansers home and tore off (and filled out) the rebate slips that I saw the list of ingredients hiding underneath. Water, Cetyl Alcohol, Behentrimonium Methosulfate... Wait. Methosulfate?!? Not the dreaded Sodium Lauryl Sulfate, but still... It's ingredient #3 in my sulfate-free shampoo?!? D'oh!

Marketers: 1. ChicaGoinGreen: 0.

If it weren't for the fact that I'll be getting my money back in 6-8 weeks (thanks to the strategically placed rebate slips), I would be much more inconsolable than I am. Let this be a lesson to all you fellow planet savers; paying more for an "organic" product doesn't automatically make it better for the environment-- so it pays to do your homework!

River Roads

With more than a year's worth of above average rainfall in the record books, my fellow Chicagoans and I have been dealing with a sharp increase in street flooding. In fact, it now seems that even a moderately heavy rainfall turns intersections into giant puddles (and sidestreets into swiftly moving streams) in a matter of minutes. It's quite common to see diligent homeowners on the street corners after a downpour, in their galoshes, jabbing a broomstick into the storm drains, hoping to loosen whatever is "clogging" the sewers.

After wading home through nearly a foot of water (thanks for the pic, Danielle!), rushing down the street after a monsoon-like rain-- in February-- I seriously considered investing in a canoe. Even the water-main replacement projects have done little to relieve the flooding! What most residents don't know, though, is that it's not a glut of fallen leaves that clogs our sewers, it's a problem that was intentionally created by the Department of Water Management. After the "great flood" of 1997, the city installed nearly 200,000 rainblockers, or intake restrictor valves, in neighborhood storm drains.

The purpose of these valves is to slow the amount of rain that enters the system. Like many older cities, Chicago has a combined sewer system, which collects both sewage and storm runoff. An influx of storm water into the city's sewer system forces raw sewage releases into Lake Michigan or-- worse yet-- into the streets or peoples' basements. Reasoning that flooded streets are preferable to flooded basements (no argument here), the city boasts that their rainblocker program was completed ahead of schedule and under budget, and at only a quarter of what it would cost to actually improve the sewer system.

What the city fails to mention is that this program is a "band-aid" for an actual solution that was started two decades before, that (like so many things in this city) is behind schedule and over budget-- the Tunnel and Reservoir Plan. Better known as "The Deep Tunnel" program, perhaps it would be more accurate to describe the project as out of money and far from finished. Begun in 1975, the program called for more than 110 miles of tunnels to be built under Chicago and its municipalities. These tunnels would then carry sewage and storm water to an appropriate number of reservoirs, where it would be stored until it could be properly treated and safely released.

While the tunnel system is nearly complete, the reservoirs (which were originally slated to be finished in 2015) are virtually non-existent. The result of which is, as expected, flooded streets and raw sewage releases into Lake Michigan. And while the EPA lauds Chicago for testing the water quality of Lake Michigan with such great frequency, the tests show unacceptable levels of E. Coli more than a third of the time, which leads to beach closures throughout the summer. When the red and yellow flags are flying, you really don't want to make that day a beach day.

My vote (not that it matters) is to dedicate a chunk of the city's stimulus money to finishing what was started more than 30 years ago, to reduce (and potentially eliminate) the sewage and flooding problems that have plagued this city since its inception. Until then, though, who wants to go swimming?

My 20/20 Challenge

I met a friend for lunch in Andersonville today, and picked up a flyer about the neighborhood's 20/20 Challenge. Promoted by the Andersonville Chamber of Commerce, the idea is, if each resident commits to spending just $20 a week in their neighborhood for a total of 20 weeks, local restaurants and business owners will prosper. This will support small businesses in the neighborhood and enable them to keep their doors open, because people are more likely to visit thriving and vibrant neighborhoods than they are to frequent those with vacant or boarded-up storefronts!

I'm a huge proponent of mom-and-pop stores (and of supporting local businesses), and I think this challenge is a great idea. I didn't sign up for A-ville's challenge, however, because I would rather spend that money in my own neighborhood; it's a remarkably easy thing to do! So far this week, I've gotten take-out from the restaurant down the street, bought some cat food at the nearest pet boutique, and washed my clothes at the independently owned laundromat. That doesn't even count the meals I've eaten at the restaurant where I work (they're supposed to be supporting me, not the other way around!) and I'm well over my $20 already.

Along those lines, I'd like to take my personal challenge a step further and try to do the same thing at my local farmer's market. $20 doesn't go nearly as far there as it does at the grocery store, but if these small farms are going to survive in the face of big agriculture, they need our support. With a little planning, I think I can stretch my $20 by basing my meals around the produce that in season (that which is most plentiful is usually the cheapest!) any given week. I can even get cheese, eggs, meat, and some baked goods from these farmers, so I won't get bored.

There, I've said it out loud; I am going to "vote with my wallet" this summer and support the local farmers who are using sustainable and environmentally sound methods of growing their food. Now-- who's with me?

BPA Ban

On Wednesday, Chicago's City Council voted to ban baby bottles and sippy cups that contain Bisphenol-A, or BPA, becoming the first city in the country to do so, preceded only by the state of Minnesota, which passed a ban of their own just last week. BPA is a chemical that is used to harden plastics; it also lines some food containers. In 2007, independent researchers came out with studies that linked BPA ingestion to the eventual onset of diabetes, breast and prostate cancers, and a host of other problems caused by the general disruption of the endocrine system. The chemical reportedly mimics estrogen in humans, which in itself is cause for concern, and researchers concluded that infants and young children were especially susceptible. BPA ingestion occurs when foods or beverages are heated in containers made with BPA, as this causes the chemical to be released, and it is then leached into foods.

However, the FDA disagrees, claiming that its tests (purported by some to have been funded by the plastics industry) revealed BPA to be safe for human use. While I'm not taking sides either way, I do think that any evidence to the contrary should be more than enough to warrant a closer look. I do, however, question the need for a city-imposed ban. When the independent reports came out a couple of years ago, many manufacturers voluntarily pulled suspicious products from their shelves, and many more have retooled their manufacturing methods to produce BPA-free plastics. To insist that retailers sell only BPA-free baby products in our city seems a bit redundant. On the flip side, it could pave the way to a nationwide ban, which would benefit everybody. Back in the 1970s and '80s, for example, when California insisted that the vehicles in their state be held to stricter emissions standards than the federal government required, the entire nation soon adopted the standards set by California lawmakers, because manufacturers didn't want to produce two different types of cars.

And why only baby products? It's not okay for infants and toddlers to ingest this stuff, but kindergarteners get the green light? Who's to say that a baby won't still be exposed to BPA because they ate food that came from a can lined with BPA, which isn't marketed specifically for children, and is not included in the ban? And what about the rest of us? Are we just supposed to know better? For those of us who don't, if a plastic product has a recycling number 7, there's a very good chance that it contains BPA. I guess I'm not as concerned as I maybe should be-- I still buy canned goods, and have yet to replace my BPA-laden Nalgene bottle. On the same token, I don't heat foods in the can, and my Nalgene bottle has never been in a dishwasher, or a microwave, or left in the car on a hot day. So maybe I'm in the clear. Then again, maybe I'm not. And maybe this latest ban will turn out to be a good thing, or maybe it will go the way of the foie gras ban; only time will tell.