Something Fishy at the Beach

I will never forget that trip to Mexico I took about a decade ago. I was visiting my wife’s family in Obregon, an agricultural city in southern Sonora, when we decided to take a side trip to the coast. When we reached the beach, it was as if we had found ourselves in a Mexican tourism poster. There it was: a brilliantly white stretch of sand bathed in the warm waters of the Sea of Cortez. That was memorable enough, but it’s not what has stuck in my mind 10 years later. Indelible was the drive to the beach: a winding trek down a two-lane road through obscure villages and a parched landscape dotted with stunted trees. I don’t know if I could tell what kind they were but I remember this much: as I drove I noticed that festooned in those trees and in the dry brush were hundreds, if not thousands of flimsy, white plastic bags. It was Christmas time in August and there was no shortage of ornaments. Trash disposal in Mexico, to be kind, it not quite up to U.S. sanitary standards. And the last time I drove from my Burbank home through Malibu Canyon, the only thing I noticed was how spectacularly beautiful the landscape remains despite its proximity to our sprawling urban metropolis. But as any L.A. beachgoer knows, our shoreline is something quite different. Dig into the sand and out might come some broken glass, a cigarette butt and god knows what else. You learn not to dig too deep. But what can you do when your favorite beach pastime can be stomach churning too? I’m not much of a swimmer but I just love to play in the surf like a kid, letting the frigid waves bash and wash over me. And while I hate it when I get caught up in seaweed, it’s as much a part of the beach as the rocks and shells that bruise my soles. But when I look down and realize that what’s wrapped around my leg is not seaweed but a plastic bag, it’s enough to send me running back to my beach towel, vowing to not come back. Of course, never seeming to learn my lesson, I do return. But I’m not sure any tourist from Europe or New York with a similar experience would venture back to our world-famous beaches. So, when the L.A. City Council voted last week by an 11-to-1 margin to ban single-use plastic bags at markets, I applauded. Hell, I gave it a standing ovation. Supporters noted how the bags not only infest our beaches, but litter streets, clog storm drains and choke fish and birds. Plastic bag manufacturers led by the American Progressive Bag Alliance led the fight against the ban. They know that Mayor Villaraigosa plans to sign the legislation, and a statewide ban could likely follow. State Sen. Alex Padilla, D-Pacoima, introduced such legislation in Sacramento that was narrowly defeated last month. The momentum from L.A.’s ordinance could well turn the tide. And you know how I feel about tides. The bag alliance has made all sorts of arguments against a ban. One digs up questionable studies that claim the reusable bags are unsanitary. If that is even true, I suggest some simple solutions. If yours is canvas, wash it now and then. If it’s sturdy plastic, wipe it down with some disinfectant. Then, of course, there is the jobs argument. The alliance claims some 1,000 jobs could be lost at L.A.-area bag manufacturers. While it’s safe to assume that figure is inflated, it’s still likely there could be job losses even if the manufacturing plants were retooled to make reusable bags, saving some jobs. It’s obvious to anyone who has been to the local Vons and seen shoppers wheel their carts out – filled with groceries stuffed into countless double-lined plastic bags – that demand will drop for bags of any sort. But even if the job losses were in the hundreds – in an economy that employs millions – they need to be weighed against the costs of litter pickup, harm to wildlife and, of course, the damage to our reputation as a coastal city with supposedly great beaches. Yes, we don’t have plastic bags festooning our trees, but we all know our beaches aren’t what they are cracked up to be – and they can and should be cleaner. After all, what I most remember about the Mexican coast was not the beauty, but that depressing drive we took to get there. Laurence Darmiento is editor of the Business Journal. He can be reached at [email protected].