Waste Not...

Remember when a trip to McDonald's was a treat? Once in awhile, when the whole family craved a food treat on a Saturday night, my father would write down our orders and ride off to McDonald's. We'd wait at home an interminable 45 minutes in eager anticipation. There was little variety in the order: cheeseburgers, hamburgers, fries, a Coke. Eventually, the brave and hungry among us got to try the brand-new taste--the Big Mac.

Now McDonald's is commonplace in our lives. Its vast menu has grown beyond beef to include fish and fowl. Or salad. Or yogurt. Or fruit and nuts. Perhaps this stepped-up menu is a response to our cultural reliance on fast food for dinner; it is no longer a late-night weekend treat. For me, it is part of a Saturday ritual that begins with an early-morning trip to McDonald's for take-out breakfast. At home, breakfast is woven into newspaper reading, C-Span viewing, and attention to my faithful dog who sits at my feet hoping the sky will rain down pieces of egg, sausage, hash brown.

Convenience is a pleasure. I like it. But I wonder what all this packaging of our meals costs us. Everything comes in a handy, single-size serving. You can climb the food pyramid on a stairway of three-inch square containers and four-inch tubes of food entombed in shrink wrap. Start at the base with a can of Pringles and rise up through a four-pack of peach cups. Open a couple of sinewy Slim Jims, march through a plastic tray of cheese-n-stix, and then top it off with a Twinkie and a small bag of honey-coated peanuts. Wash it all down with a juice box and then send the remains to a landfill. What a packaging nightmare!