Plastics Are Us by Frederick Foote

Plastics Are Us by Frederick Foote

My family is amazingly high-tech. We were the first family on the street to purchase an electric car, a Nissan Leaf, in 2012. We also have a solar electric system with a backup battery.

Our appliances and home security system are smart appliances that we can operate from anywhere in the world.

We subscribe to PC Magazine and Wired, and we faithfully follow the Tech columns in the New York Times, Washington Post, and our local newspaper, the San Juan Record.

So, I was a little surprised to hear my wife, Lois, disparage our smart scale.

“Stupid electronic junk!”

“What’s up, Babe? Is the scale on the blink?”

“Yes, it’s been off for the last two weeks, it showed me gaining a pound a week, I know I haven’t gained two pounds. I’ve been following my diet very religiously.”

“No worries. It has a calibration function. I will check it out.”

“Thanks, Wait, wait, Hon, I think I know what it is.”

“Good. What is it, love?”

“Microplastics.”

“What?”

“Microplastics. They are everywhere. They’re in the air, soil, water, and our food.”

“Okay, I kind of knew that. Do you think Microplastics are messing with the scale, making it unreliable?”

“No, silly—well maybe. I hadn’t thought of that. No, I think I’m gaining weight because I am ingesting microplastics, and they are staying with me, in particular on my thighs and hips.”

“You think you are gaining a pound of Microplastics every week?”

“It’s possible. Do you remember the article that said we have a tablespoon full of microplastics in our brains?”

“I remember that. I do, but a pound a week—”

Mark, why are you trying to undercut my theory? It’s based on science.”

“Well, I think that’s a lot of plastic to consume.”

“Are you implying that I’m not sticking to my diet?”

“No, no, I, I probably I need to do some more research on these microplastics. I think that’s what I’m going to do right now.”

“Mark, you do that, and you need to try to be more supportive. I always support you.”

“Roger that.”

On my way to the kitchen to get a beer to fuel my research, I see our 12-year-old daughter, Nina, in her room playing Death Race 2028 on her TV.

“Hey, Stirling Moss, this is the homework hour. You know that.”

Nina pauses her game. “My brain is having hot flashes or something. I just can’t concentrate like I used to.”

“Twelve is a little young for hot flashes. So, tell me what else has been going on that may be causing your brain malfunctions.”

“Microplastics. I think that the microplastics in my brain are short-circuiting my brain functions.”

“Really?

“Yeah, do you remember that article that said we have a spoonful of plastic in our brains?”

“Yes, I do. I was on my way to look that article up again. Have you been talking to your mother?

“Not like in the last hour or so. See, Dad, I think that by playing this game that I’m familiar with, I can reinforce brain connections.

 This will give me a better shot at understanding new stuff. So, after I win this game, I will go back to studying.”

“Good. I love your innovative solution to this very difficult problem. Be sure to keep track of your gaming time so we can subtract it from your gaming hour, okay?”

“Dad, that is so unfair. This is like a prescription. This is my medicine. Hey, Dad, who is Stirling Moss?”

As I’m settling into my easy chair with my beer and computer tablet, our 15-year-old daughter, Jenna, confronts me.

“Dad, Dad, we have to stop driving to protect the environment. I mean, we can walk to school, but how would you and Mom get to work?”

“Jenna, slow your roll, Senior Sibling. Sit. Take a load off and tell me why we can’t drive our new Kia EV that you and your sister researched and enthusiastically approved. What? Thirty days ago?”

“Yeah, I know all that, but I, we didn’t realize that pollution comes from tires as well as exhaust. And it’s bad, Dad. It pollutes the air, and we all breathe it, and when it rains, the runoff pollutes the waterways.”

“Oh, boy, dare I ask, what kind of pollution is this?”

“Microplastics, of course.”

“Of course, have you told your mother and your sister about your discovery?”

“No, no, I’ve spent the last 24 hours researching tire pollution, and it is real and real bad.”

“Well, if you walk to school, you will be wearing rubber-soled shoes—”

“Come on, Dad, it’s the heat and friction that create tire microplastics.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that we are getting hit with a ton of disturbing information lately.”

Lois steps into the kitchen with a cardboard banker’s box and addresses Jenna and me.

“Okay, I need you two to help me here. We are going to rid this kitchen of plastic food containers, service wear, foil, and picnic wear. It all has to go before we are too fat to fit through the front door.”

Jenna asks, “Where is Nina. She should help, too.”

Nina slips into the room and makes a face at her sister.

Lois hugs Nina and says, “Oh, I forgot we have a ton of emergency water in plastic bottles, we need to put that water in glass containers—”

Nina turns to address her mother.

“Why, Mom?”

“Baby, you know why. Plastic gets into the water, and we drink the water, and the plastic accumulates in us. You know this already, sugar.”

“Mom, before they put the water in the plastic bottle, it already had plastic in it.”

Nina adds. “She’s probably right, Mom. Most drinking water has plastic in it. We end up drinking plastic-laced water anyway.”

Lois looks at me for help. I shrug.

Lois rolls on, ”Okay, smarty pants, but we will have less plastic in our water if we move it to glass containers, right?“

Jenna nods her head in agreement. “I don’t know if it makes a big difference, Mom.”

Nina adds, “Mom, Dad, Sis, do you think plastic is molding us instead of the other way around?”

None of us has an answer to that question.

Lois brings us back to the task at hand. “Well, that’s what we are going to do. Better to be safe than sorry. We have to hurry. We’re having steak tonight, and I need time to cook.”

Microplastics are concentrated in creatures higher up the food chain, like mammals like cows.

I should suggest vegetables, but they are sometimes grown with wastewater sludge containing, you guessed it, microplastics.

I think we all know that, but we need to pick our battles. Tonight, we will enjoy our steaks and try to forget about plastic.

P.S. The steak looked delicious, but none of us had much of an appetite for it.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright Frederick Foote 2025