My recycling container has disappeared again.  It's only the second time in nine years and, frankly, I'm surprised it hasn't happened more often.  But it's still annoying.  This isn't helped by the fact that the last time I needed to get a new container, the City couldn't seem to figure out that I lived on a street corner and needed the new container where my driveway is (and where the other containers are) and not halfway up the front path on the way to the front door.  It took three attempts to get a broken container replaced for the same reason. I haven't even requested a new one this time.  I live about a block and a half from a commercial recycling center and this neighborhood is gro

Collection day morning in Midtown. Heralded once again by the clatter of shopping cart wheels, arguments over territory rights, and cans and bottles strewn about makeshift recycling centers upon the front yards of residents. The Police are powerless. Worse, the City of Sacramento’s utility code unwittingly encourages marginalization of the Homeless. By providing residents no choice in how their recyclables are reclaimed, and no alternative to a monthly fee for recycling pick up, Sacramento residents automatically subsidize the burgeoning activity of scavenging. Leaving many recycling bins nearly empty well before pick-up time, and many residents with increasing—and misplaced—animosity tow