Ode to a Plastic Bag

My friend, Lenore, is working on a New York Sun column about the war between paper and plastic. What's the deal with plastic bags? I feel a Seinfeld riff coming on...Anyway, here's what I had to tell her...

"When they're not strangling sea otters or ending up in the digestive tracts of unsuspecting dolphins, plastic bags are indeed proof that the Establishment Dad figure in the movie THE GRADUATE got it right when he whispered into Dustin Hoffman's ear, "Plastics!" My initial preference of plastic over paper at my local grocery finds its roots in a single word: Handles. Unless you're shopping at Whole Foods or some other fancyschmancy make-their-own-granola type store, most paper bags don't come with handles so I'm left hugging this thing to my chest like it's a life preserver or Ann Hathaway (for you ladies, Brad Pitt, or whomever it is you find attractive these days).

But as you so astutely note, dear Lenore, plastic bags have proven they have many uses. For me, bathroom litter basket liner for one. An eon or two ago when I had a girlfriend who owned a wonderful 80 pound German shepherd-Lab mix, I learned the Zen of DoggieDoo pickup. "You put the plastic bag over your hand, pick up the doo, and then pull the plastic around and you're ready to toss it in the trash, Donald Rumsfeld or the Bush Administration lackey of your choice."

I find when I visit my 83-year-old poet Dad, plastic bags are great for holding ice so they can preserve his famous spaghetti sauce he typically presents me upon my arrival so it can make the 42 minute drive back to my condo without turning green from spoilage. And is there not something poetic about watching a plastic bag whip across an asphalt parking lot, the urban equivalent of watching a tumbleweed bounce across the prairie? Show me a paper sack that can do that!