When I was a kid, there was a grocery store near my house (cough*trailer*cough) where a giant soda can-shaped recycling station stood in the parking lot. It was ridiculous. You'd feed cans into that thing for hours and get, like, a nickel. Okay, maybe a few cents more, but definitely not enough for a Charleston Chew, if memory serves. Maybe times have changed back home and I'm just not up to speed. Last time I recycled in America I just gave my cans away. Here in Sweden, though, there's big time incentive. Aluminum cans get about fifteen cents apiece and plastic bottles get thirty. If you're a kid, that's big bucks, which I guess is why The Swede sometimes litters by the school and acts like he's doing the youngster that finds his trash a big favor. Recycling used beverage receptacles is so lucrative, in fact, that today, after what must have been an especially sloshy month, I made over fourteen dollars on the recycling we brought home from the cabin. The Mara of 1992 just bought twenty-eight Charleston Chews.