About ten years ago, my sister presented me with a birthday present. It was a large, brown, unwrapped cardboard box. It wasn’t very heavy.
It was full of 3,000 red plastic drinking straws, each individually wrapped in paper. My sister knew this was the perfect gift for me. Every time I take a drink, I use a straw because I’m too crippled to lift a glass to my mouth.
I drink beer through a straw. (And no, contrary to popular belief, drinking beer through a straw does not get me buzzed faster, unfortunately.) I drink martinis through a straw, which isn’t easy. It’s hard to find a straw so small that won’t fall out of a martini glass. When I go to a restaurant with friends and we order a bottle of wine and the server pours a little wine in a glass for someone to sample and approve, I’ll often be the taste-tester, using a straw.
My sister’s gift keeps on giving. In spite of my heavy straw usage, I thought I had enough straws to last me a lifetime and beyond. But now I’m not so sure. Because damn, this campaign by environmentalists vilifying plastic straws has really taken off!
Normally, when conflicts like this arise, I’m all Earth first. If environmentalists are trying to stop a logging company from cutting down trees because it threatens an endangered species of hummingbird, I’m on Team Hummingbird. Sometimes humans have to make sacrifices.
But this straw thing hits mighty close to home. Now I’m the one expected to make a sacrifice. It’s not fair!
Some disabled folks have gotten pretty worked up about it. When Starbucks announced in July that it would phase out plastic straws by 2020, disability activists in New York planned to protest outside a Starbucks in Times Square. The protest was called off when Starbucks brass agreed to meet with protest organizers. Starbucks then issued a statement saying, “Starbucks offers, and will continue to offer, straws to customers who need or request them in our stores.”
But will the straws be plastic?
The sponsor of a proposed plastic straw ban in Washington, D.C., says he’s open to making exceptions for disabled people. But how will that work? Will I have to get a note from my doctor stating that I’m disabled enough to be eligible to receive a plastic straw? When I present it to the person behind the counter, will they then unlock the vault and extract a straw for me? I hope they’ll just take my word for it.
Meanwhile, in Seattle, it is now illegal for bars and restaurants to provide plastic straws and utensils to customers. Several disability activists wrote an open letter to the city council objecting to the ban. The letter said, “Many people with physical disabilities such as cerebral palsy and multiple sclerosis require the use of plastic straws in order to hydrate. Other types of straws simply do not offer the combination of strength, flexibility, and safety that plastic straws do.”
I know frivolous use of disposable plastic items is a big problem, but for some people plastic straws aren’t frivolous.
I know frivolous use of disposable plastic items is a big problem, but for some people plastic straws aren’t frivolous. Environmental and disability activists need to get together and see if they can figure out a plan that makes everybody happy. Call it a Straw Summit.
But until then, I’m hoarding. Whenever I go to Starbucks or someplace with free straws, I grab a few extra while I still can. I’m washing and reusing the straws my sister gave me. With plastic straws on the road to extinction, my stash may run out a lot sooner than I thought. My home might turn into a plastic straw speakeasy, where dehydrated disabled folks knock on my door, say the secret password and receive their precious contraband. I’ll have to ration my straws out judiciously.