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Pollution on my Mission Beach kitchen table
Someone's vaporizing recaps
My white kitchen table gets coated with black, gritty, greasy filth in about two days.
Dear Man Al: My white kitchen table gets coated with black, gritty, greasy filth in about two days. No, this is not about my cooking, this is about air pollution. Neighbor John thinks it's car tires. “Where do you think car tires go when they wear out?” says he. I thought they went into the nearest canyon, but since we don’t have any canyons here, he may have a point. Neighbor Ann thinks it’s from the many jets that pass overhead. But she is a travel agent, so she’s probably thinking about planes all the time. Please help! — Mike from Mission Beach
Next time, listen to Neighbor John. He could have saved you 29 cents on this one. That rude granular schmutz filtering into your kitchen is most likely somebody’s vaporizing recaps. The pollution detectives I checked with weren’t willing to stake their careers on it, since they actually have to poke around in the stuff before they make an official commitment. But from what I can tell, your kitchen’s coated with a layer of old tire tread. And I’ll decline that dinner invitation, thanks just the same.
Since I’m assuming you don’t have many 18-wheelers roaring through your alley, we can eliminate diesel exhaust as a possibility. That contains more greasy particulates than does exhaust from gasoline engines but doesn’t have quite the grit factor you seem to be complaining about. Living on an alley, of course, is asking for trouble of this sort. You’re bound to have more combustion byproducts wafting through your house than would someone with the sense to live on top of a hill. John would have known that, I’ll bet. Anyway, since you can’t do anything about the stuff short of nailing your windows shut, I hope it’s enough to know the crud is at least something interesting — a conversation-starter, if you will.
You might also be interested to know that there’s every possibility that amid the dirt that’s drifting up in the corners of your rooms are particles from the Sahara (desert, not hotel) and Tasmania and Tierra del Fuego or some such exotic locales. Dust carried aloft on updrafts can be blown great distances around the globe. And I’m sure it all heads right in your kitchen window.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Pollution on my Mission Beach kitchen table
Someone's vaporizing recaps
Pollution on my Mission Beach kitchen table
Someone's vaporizing recaps
My white kitchen table gets coated with black, gritty, greasy filth in about two days.
Dear Man Al: My white kitchen table gets coated with black, gritty, greasy filth in about two days. No, this is not about my cooking, this is about air pollution. Neighbor John thinks it's car tires. “Where do you think car tires go when they wear out?” says he. I thought they went into the nearest canyon, but since we don’t have any canyons here, he may have a point. Neighbor Ann thinks it’s from the many jets that pass overhead. But she is a travel agent, so she’s probably thinking about planes all the time. Please help! — Mike from Mission Beach
Next time, listen to Neighbor John. He could have saved you 29 cents on this one. That rude granular schmutz filtering into your kitchen is most likely somebody’s vaporizing recaps. The pollution detectives I checked with weren’t willing to stake their careers on it, since they actually have to poke around in the stuff before they make an official commitment. But from what I can tell, your kitchen’s coated with a layer of old tire tread. And I’ll decline that dinner invitation, thanks just the same.
Since I’m assuming you don’t have many 18-wheelers roaring through your alley, we can eliminate diesel exhaust as a possibility. That contains more greasy particulates than does exhaust from gasoline engines but doesn’t have quite the grit factor you seem to be complaining about. Living on an alley, of course, is asking for trouble of this sort. You’re bound to have more combustion byproducts wafting through your house than would someone with the sense to live on top of a hill. John would have known that, I’ll bet. Anyway, since you can’t do anything about the stuff short of nailing your windows shut, I hope it’s enough to know the crud is at least something interesting — a conversation-starter, if you will.
You might also be interested to know that there’s every possibility that amid the dirt that’s drifting up in the corners of your rooms are particles from the Sahara (desert, not hotel) and Tasmania and Tierra del Fuego or some such exotic locales. Dust carried aloft on updrafts can be blown great distances around the globe. And I’m sure it all heads right in your kitchen window.
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