So I’m in Publix last night for my weekly grocery shopping when I hear the familiar line, "paper or plastic."

It always amuses me to hear this and watch the face of the checker or bagger asking. They automatically expect to hear plastic. So much so that it always takes them a moment to realize I’ve said "paper please."

Last night was no exception. In fact, they so expect shoppers to say plastic, that the paper bags are hidden behind the plastic bag loader and under the counter. It took a little work for the bagger to bring out the three or so bags needed for my load. And his expression was rather priceless as well. He was quite put out that he had to go digging for the seldom used bags and had no qualms showing it in his demeanor.

Not only that, but he had no idea how to pack groceries into one. He put my gallon of milk on the bottom, packed the bag with several items then topped it off with my loaf of wheat bread.

Milk and bread in the same bag? Never saw that before.

So what’s the deal with the plastic bags anyway? Why do stores seem to push them on us, when everything else in our lives is so focused on "recycling" and taking care of the environment? And why do they even bother to ask the double-P question when they already so assume the consumer will go for the plastic that they’ve placed the paper bags in inconvenient places for their baggers and don’t even train said baggers in how to properly pack a paper bag?

Oh, and I know what you’re asking me in the privacy of your own web-world as well… why in the world to you take bulky hard-to-hold paper bags over the ease of plastic bags with their handy-dandy little handles?

I’ll tell you why. India. China. Ethiopia. Tijuana. Ensenada. That’s why.

One of the longest lasting images I have of these places is the ubiquitous presence of plastic bags, smashed in the gutters, clinging to fences and walls, wafting in the breezes and filling up the trash heaps. These pervasive and familiar contraptions don’t ever seem to die. They live on in countries and regions too poor to afford clean up crews and overflow garbage piles all over the world. I can’t tell you how often I saw these bags flying through the air or clutching to local vegetation as if sucking the life out of it. In Ethiopia it sometimes seemed that the plastic bag was "grown" along side the tumble weeds and tall grasses.

With each new siting I swore I would never use another plastic bag again in my life. But reality is such a different creature than our ideals. Once back in the States (or in European life), however, I eventually found myself clutching   my own little life-sucker as I left my local Walgreen’s or Kroger. The pull of ease and convenience was much stronger than my desire to rid the world of the evil plastic bag. That is, until recently.

Something snapped in me a couple of months ago. I don’t know what it was — perhaps I just finally found my own strength of will (and character?). But I came to the firm conclusion that I no longer have to contribute to the world’s supply of un-recycled plastic bag trash. Every time I’d walk out of the store carrying my plastic bag full of goodies my joy was diminished by the images in my mind of that same plastic bag someday littering the African landscape and diminishing the beauty and grandeur by its very existence. It finally got to much for me to bear. And I decided it is time to take a stand. No matter how small or insignificant it may seem to others. I needed to do something. I needed to do something. So I asked for my first paper bags since I was in high school.

I sounded as if I was asking a huge favor from the checker.

"Paper or Plastic, ma’am?" Even the baggers are polite in the South.

"Uh… paper… please?" Did I actually squeak when I said that??

Oh, but I felt so very good when I left with my paper bags full of groceries. I’d just kept four plastic bags out of circulation. Ethiopia would be a little less in danger of being overrun with those evil life-suckers now.

With each trip to the grocery store it got a little easier, and I got a little more confident in my "paper" declaration. Till one day I found myself anticipating the question and stating, "paper bags please," before the checker even had time to ask.

It also helped that I discovered the self-checkout lines. Except for the fact that they make it even more difficult to use paper bags in those lines. Have you ever tried to bag your groceries with paper while keeping them on that little pad so the machine doesn’t loudly proclaim, for all the store to hear, "Please put the item back in the bag," while at the same time not toppling over and crashing to the floor spilling jam and spaghetti sauce all over the you and the three people at the next two stations? It ain’t easy. But I make it work. Because it matters to me.

Eventually I hope to gather some cotton totes to carry into stores with me, but for now, paper is good. it works whether I recycle, or send it to the land fill. At least it will turn back to pulp/dust many decades sooner than plastic will…. do whatever it is that plastic does when it finally fades away… Does it fade away???

I cannot save the world from hate or war. I may not even be able to clean up our planet and rid it of all garbage and air pollutants. But I can do one thing:

I can lessen the world’s trash by a few bags and, hopefully, help keep it a little cleaner for the next generation. My paper bags may cause inconvenience for the checkers and baggers of America. But if I can help keep Ethiopia from being completely overrun by plastic bags, even in a small way, than it’s worth all the rolled eyes and cranky attitudes I get.