It was 15 years ago when the seemingly creepy neighbour character in American Beauty introduced us to the idea that a plastic bag floating, nay dancing around the air was beautiful. Even “the most beautiful thing” this kid has ever filmed, possibly ever ever. And, for a brief period of 1999 we believed him, because like everyone else we were hypnotised by the magic of a great movie. But as weeks and months passed, and as the spell of the Academy Award Best Picture wore away, we realised that it’s fucking litter! Nothing more! And stubborn litter at that.

There is something truly icky about a dirty, wet plastic bag that makes no one willing to clean up someone else’s mess. (I mean, what’s in there? We simply can’t know.) And we’ve all seen bags stuck in trees, which are impossible to clean, even if one wanted to, without sophisticated tree-climbing equipment and intense dedication. Plastic bag litter is a dire enough pandemic as it is but it’s made all the worse when you’re forced to live with it. Literally live with it, at your home, everyday. My friend Mira has been living like this for over a year now:

A year ago today [January 20], a plastic bag was blown into the tree outside my window, its white plastic chest puffed out by wind. It was kind of cute and balloony, and I figured it would sit there for a day or two and then the wind would catch it and take it away.

Over the next several days the wind blew and the snow fell. Bag whipped around and swung about. Bag tore and grew darker. But Bag was stubborn. Every morning I looked out the window, hopeful Bag would be gone. And every morning, enragingly, there Bag was, tauntingly flapping his shredded grey arms at me.

I swatted at Bag with a broom but the broom was too short. I unwound a wire hanger, taped it to the broom handle, and tried (and failed) again. One day window washers came. From the neighbouring window I called to the man hanging outside, but his harness made it impossible for him to reach Bag.

Bag has lasted through snow, last summer’s flooding rains, an ice storm that took out 20% of our tree canopy, and the crazy winds we had a couple weeks ago. So many times I’ve watched Bag flapping wildly during a storm and felt sure this was the moment he would fly away forever. But Bag has disconcertingly battled through an entire year.

I fought Bag but Bag won. Screw you, Bag. Happy bagiversary.

I’ll leave you with a thought from George Carlin: “Plastic came out of the earth. The earth probably sees plastic as just another one of its children. Could be the only reason the earth allowed us to be spawned from it in the first place. It wanted plastic for itself. Didn’t know how to make it. Needed us. Could be the answer to our age-old egocentric philosophical question, ‘Why are we here?’ Plastic…asshole.” So, maybe Tree is just keeping Bag around at Earth’s request.

UPDATE: Bag on January 20, 2015, two years later: