Our neighbor JJ sits across the street on her front porch wearing pajamas, intensely staring at her phone, leaving her oblivious to the noisy lawn blower.
Sarah feeds Baby Che in the house so I'm exploiting the window of opportunity to make noise.
"HEY JJ!" I scream as tiny Palm berries roll across the concrete.
"WHAT?" she screams waving.
"SORRY!"
"WHAT?" she repeats leaning forward.
Turning off the high pitch whine of the blower I repeat, "Sorry."
"It doesn't bother me," she laughs quickly returning to the intensity of her phone.
After putting away the blower and electrical cord, I stand at the top of the stairs admiring my work, all seven minutes of it.
Interrupting the pride in my incredible sense of accomplishment, the Atlantic Waste Services truck slowly makes it's way down our street.
Tybee Island is an eco-friendly clump of sand that does not tolerate anything that doesn't naturally wash up on the Beach.
Except discarded "To-Go" Cups which are definite linchpins of the island's economic engine.
The sharply dressed Atlantic Waste Management worker opens the blue recycling can proudly displaying the "Tybee Recycles" logo in white letters and looks inside.
Apparently satisfied, he opens the brown trash can with "Atlantic Waste Management" in green letters before professionally and quickly picking up the "Tybee Recycles" can and emptying it inside the trash can.
Efficiently the waste is disposed of inside of the brown "Atlantic Waste Management" truck whicih proceeds slowly down the street.
In utter disbelief, I cuss ... "Why don't I have my damn phone when I need it? so I can snap a photo and post in on Face Book and the local news picks up the documentation and broadcasts the travesty on the 6 o'clock News ... like last time.
But Don Logana was tragically killed and no longer follows me on Facebook.
Before I can react, a second "Atlantic Waste Management" truck slowly makes its way down the street as I stand frozen ... wondering why.
On the side in white letters are the words, "Tybee Recycles."
It doesn't stop ... following the brown "Atlantic Waste Management" truck as it turns the corner.
"I better let someone know about this," I say to Sarah and Baby Che, grabbing my phone to send a text to Johnny O, who used to be somebody.
Forever the consummate professional Johnny I quickly text a detailed account of what I'd personally witnessed.
"Yep," he immediately replies.
And that's recycling on Tybee Island ... an eco-friendly island financed by fees and charges to residents, businesses and tourists ... so we can feel good about ourselves for things that simply don't exist.
