Is litter legal?

Littering appears to be legal in Denver. I'd like to know why, and more importantly, I'd like to know how to convince the City Council to give a rip.

One idea I'm toying with is to collect all the debris I find on a given block or in a particular park and push it together, creating a pile. Piles command attention.

I wouldn't have created any trash in the process, but, by virtue of having picked stuff up and put it down again, would I have littered? Could I be ticketed? Is it worse for one person to drop 100 pieces of trash than for 100 people each to drop one piece?

I'm seeking answers from Solid Waste Management (whose Web site says much about collecting large quantities of trash but nothing about garden-variety litter) and my councilwoman. Meanwhile I asked my Facebook friends if picking up a piece of trash only to drop it again (or nudging a piece of trash with my foot so that it moves but never leaves the ground) would constitute littering. The answers thus far:

• Yes
• Yes
• I don't think either one is littering because you didn't generate the trash, but it's still really EVIL.
• I think law enforcement would be justified in fining you for littering... like THAT ever happens.

My Facebook friends aren't public defenders but they're smart and it seems like we've all got the same impression: moving a mess is illegal while creating one, or walking past one without touching it, is not.

If I go ahead with this project, the one thing I will for sure be guilty of is succumbing to the impulse to dive into a tactic -- the mark of a social-marketing amateur. But this is something that's concerned me for years, and might even form the basis for (drumroll please) a new nonprofit. First step: determine how the community has expressed its view of litter via the law.

The problem is obviously not unique to Denver, but this is where I live so this is where I'm starting.

Nativity

The bullying tone of some of the help-wanted ads on the boards comes as a bit of a surprise. Posted evidently by small companies that lack any HR expertise, they're written in the second person rather than the first, and attempt to describe the traits to be exhibited by the new hire -- down to what types of jokes s/he should find funny -- rather than the work to be accomplished.

One such ad stated that the successful candidate will be "a native English speaker." To emphasize the point the writer added, "No kidding." I replied asking why this is not illegal discrimination on the basis of national origin, and was not surprised not to receive a reply. I can't find the ad any longer, however, leading me to wonder if enough people complained that the company realized it had broken a taboo and perhaps a law.

What is a native English speaker, anyway? Someone born in an English-speaking country? (Which raises the question of what an English-speaking country is.) Someone born to English-speaking parents? (Which raises the question of what English-speaking parents are.) Someone who has never spoken a language other than English? (Which raises the question of why an employer would choose ignorance over knowledge.) Someone who speaks many languages, but learned English first? (Which raises the question of why on earth this would matter.)

If it were possible to discriminate on the basis of native English-speaking status -- and I just can't imagine that it is -- that would have disqualified such excellent English-speakers as my father and wife from the workplace, not to mention Arnold Schwarzenegger and George Soros. It would even call my English credentials into question, Ivy degree and AP awards notwithstanding, as I lived my first year-and-a-half in French-speaking countries, an experience that, alas, had no impact whatsoever on my ability to speak French.

While using the word "native" is fraught with issues, I see no problem with giving an English language test to applicants for jobs that require fluency in the English language. There should be some wiggle room on such questions as whether collective nouns are singular or plural, or whether "that" is an acceptable personal pronoun (though misusing an apostrophe should be grounds for immediate dismissal if not public whipping!) and there would be costs and effort involved in administering and scoring the tests. But none of this should pose any challenge to those with native management skills.

Digital divisors

It occurred to me not long ago that my relationship with my computer resembles that of a cargo cultist to a steamer: without really knowing how it works, I expect it to bring me stuff. Ordering from Zappos is the closest thing I've seen to magic since watching my kids get born. But it goes beyond material items: I now expect such intangibles as companionship, self-worth and, dare one say it, happiness all to reach me via the sleek, inscrutable box on my desk.

I viewed my first computer, a 20-pound laptop (apparently I had quite a manly lap in those days) as a time-saver and nothing more: no longer would I have to write a draft by hand or typewriter, mark it up, and start all over. Of course, the time I wasted setting up the machine (I was at one point dangerously close to being able to claim fluency in MS-DOS) sucked up a considerable portion of the time saved on editing.

The computer began to really consume time rather than produce it when I joined CompuServe... and then Prodigy and then AOL and then, with the advent of the Web, the entire computer-using world. Suddenly, the skills required to hold a job or maintain a relationship were the skills required to operate a computer. Trouble is, computers almost immediately began to evolve faster than the learning curve of all but a few human beings. With the multiplicity of programming languages now in use, not to mention the mind-numbing proliferation of features even in programs meant specifically to appeal to the technologically uneducated (i.e., consumers) I think it can now be said there is not a single person on earth who truly "knows" computers -- least of all programmers, who seem to be forced to unlearn the skills of adaptability that once seemed like the keys to white-collar success.

Work now, it seems to me, consists largely of learning computer features that one did not think one needed at the last job -- or even yesterday -- but that the person in the next cubicle considers essential. I was once ordered, for example, to create the script for a three-day conference in a spreadsheet. This is a completely inappropriate use of a spreadsheet, which is meant for crunching numbers, not massaging text. I learned a lot about spreadsheets that week, including the precise number of characters that can fit into a cell, but nothing that improved the quality of the product I'd been hired to produce: words meant to be spoken and heard. Ultimately the words went back into Word, whence they came, and from there out of the intended mouths and into the intended ears.

Any talk of curing the "digital divide" by providing children with computers is misguided. There is no "digital divide" -- there is, instead, an infinite number of digital divisors; opportunities for idiosyncratic usage habits to create misunderstandings. The personalization that the personal computer enables happens to make it uniquely unsuited for organizational life. It no longer matters what "platform" an organization adopts: we are all now on different wavelengths.

What a welcome

I've been treated so well as a volunteer at National Jewish Health, I'm almost beginning to worry whether good feelings need to be reported to the IRS.

I first approached NJH for a selfish reason: a job. But the job I wanted was de-posted for lack of budget, so, as a form of self-marketing, I asked if they could use me for a few hours a week as a volunteer; then presumably when the job reappeared I'd be top-of-mind. They put me to work rewriting the development department's Web site.

All I'd asked for was an opportunity to prove I could be useful; what I got was a sackful of gratitude. They gave me a parking pass; an official hospital ID on a retractable lanyard that I like to play with; credits to use in the cafeteria; and a free TB test and H1N1 shot. (These last two benefits arguably are more enlightened self-interest than sheer generosity, but heck, free is free!)

Now they've invited me to the staff holiday party, a truly gracious gesture of welcome.

Because of the amount of training they (I mean we) require, volunteers are not necessarily a way to save money, and certainly not a way to increase efficiency. But you can't run a genuine community organization without them. Us.

So, to National Jewish, you're welcome, but more than that, thank you.