We're In The Money

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.