Boise News

Column: Sunday

Cleaning Up Boise For The Minnesota Vikings

By Joseph Friedrichs, 1-24-10

I was willing to risk hypothermia for my Vikings...

With the finest of intentions, I spent Sunday morning cleaning up trash in Boise. I would be lying if I said it was for the purpose of keeping the planet and community clean. I did it to generate good karma for the Minnesota Vikings.

A Minnesota Vikings fan since my youth, I will remain so until my hair is either gone or gray.

The first collection of rubbish I came upon was scattered on the side of the road. It was a hideous mess of crushed and empty Coors cans. Also mixed with the rubbish were several pieces of mail, an empty bottle of Ensure and some plastic bags containing absolutely nothing. The sight of the trash pissed me off something fierce.

Where had this mess come from? There’s no evidence to prove this, but I’ll bet the trash was left by two people: an idiot, and another idiot. 

“Oh come on,” I said aloud. “What is this?”

That is when the notion of good karma arrived. Why, yes, I thought, if I pick up the trash rather than merely complain about it, the Vikings will win. This must be the way the world works; the whole do-good-unto-others-and-others-will-do-good-unto-you concept. So I turned back to the house, grabbed a trash bag, put on a plastic glove and proceeded to pick up the roadside mess.

I am the man, I thought while picking up one of the beer cans. What a supporter of the Vikings I am. My loyalty and dedication to the team is unparalleled.  No fan is so unique as I am!  I picked up another can. Some evil liquid drained out and I almost vomited.

After cleaning up, the dog and I continued our walk to the river. Not far from the trailhead I noticed something that had been bothering me for three consecutive days: a bag of trash in the river. It was a large black bag of trash, obviously heavy and stationed in the shallows across the river.

“Well, dog,” I said to the golden Honeybear walking with me, “enough is enough.”

I turned back to the house and scoured my golden Honda Accord for a pair of waders.

“Son of a bitch,” I said, rummaging through the contents of the car.  I was tossing maps and random articles of clothing around like a lunatic. The waders were left in Oregon, I decided. The only fall-back plan was to put on my sandals, a pair of shorts and wade across the river to retrieve the bag.

“There is a higher calling here,” I enthused. “You are doing this for the Minnesota Vikings.”

At this point I feel it is legit to bring up the fact today is Jan. 24, and the freakin’ river water is very damned cold at the this time of year in the Rocky Mountains. 

I trudged back down to the river, staggered across with the dog’s company, grabbed the trash bag and then hauled it back to the other side. My feet and legs were cold as sin and the trash bag was so damned heavy I could barely lift it.

When I got back to the shoreline I was gasping for breath and quite unhappy with everything.

“Idiots,” I thought. “So many idiots plugging up my universal intentions for goodness.”

After gathering my composure, I took a peak inside the black bag to see what it contained. Mostly it was empty bottles of booze. A 40 oz.  bottle of malt liquor seemed to be the common theme inside the bag, though I did come across....crap...an empty can of Spam.

Enough of this nonsense, I decided after a few moments of looking through the bag. I sealed it back up and it put it in a trash can along the river trail.

Walking home, with legs that shivered and numb feet, I thought about one less trash bag in the Boise River. But I thought more about the Vikings. The MINNESOTA VIKINGS.

Trash karma, don’t fail me now.

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