Full disclosure: It has been a long week since we've seen the sun. At work I'm trying to craft a perky civic presentation about the economic impacts of litter. Asleep perchance adreaming I'm dancing en pointe atop a leaking Seventies waterbed. Commuting in the freezle drizzle I'm obsessing about the plastic bags and milk jugs washing into storm drains on Coit Street. My Canon printer/scanner should be punted off the planet because of its My Image Garden program. AND, yes, AND I've got a bad case of Billy Joel earworm. "Only the Good Die Young" has been playing continuously in my head since Monday.
So Sherpas having to pick up litter behind climbers on Everest was the LAST STRAW. The wind is howling. The mountain is moaning. The ice is shifting, but that's just my trip to Kroger. It's thundersleet with gusts to 45 mph. Heck, Billy Joel was 45 rpm.
The back story: Still pondering The Dallas Opera's icy Everest opera premiere. A young coworker with a fondness for hats reminiscent of Danger Baby and the Woolly Mammoth sports both Everest styles. Attempting to scan the Playbill cover set off a really ugly adventure with Canon's My Image Garden program. Uninstalled and reinstalled the printer/scanner, but I reserve the right to toss it off a mountaintop if it doesn't clean up its own high altitude litter.
Nepal's government imposed new rules last year requiring each climber to bring down to the base camp 8kgs (18 pounds) of trash the amount it estimates a climber discards along the route. Climbing teams must leave a $4,000 deposit that they lose if they don’t comply with the regulations.