Road Apples
Feb. 5, 2007

Californians open a whole new can of worms

By Tim Sanders

Once again, when it comes to boldly going where no men have gone before, those hardy pioneers in California would have you believe they’ve blazed a wide trail for the rest of us to follow. If, like me, you’re one of those Middle American hay shakers who hasn’t even made the difficult transition to latte, organic health food and solar-powered automobiles yet, you may not know that Californians are now taking the next step and ... and taking worms to work with them.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking: "You mean this is National Take Your Worm to Work Week and nobody told me? Aw, nuts!" Well, if that’s what you’re thinking, you’re wrong. There is no such thing as National Take Your Worm to Work Week. The first week in February is National Run Your Cat Through the Carwash Week, and there is a National Scrub Your Goldfish With a Wire Brush Week in late September, but nothing for your worms. Not yet, anyway.

No, those enlightened Californians are not taking their worms to work as an educational tool to strengthen the relationship between man and worm. And what they are doing is not just instilling in their worms’ little minds the great American work ethic, either. No, they’re using their worms to recycle compost. Office compost, tossed with malice aforethought into little worm sweat shops.

DAMN THEM!

An AP article entitled "California Public Agencies Use In-Office Worms to Eat Garbage" first appeared on October 12, 2006. The article stated that California’s Integrated Waste Management Board, part of the state’s Environmental Protection Agency, has been promoting worm composting for several years. Apparently many California offices, including the Los Angeles Department of Public Works, have installed plastic bins and wastebaskets filled with worms squirming around on old apple cores and rotting lettuce. It sounds so idyllic, doesn't it?


‘Worms are the most forgiving pets you’ll ever own,’ said Carol Parker, the ‘worm lady’ who cares for the worms at the public works office. ‘You can go away for two weeks and ignore them and they’re fine.’


Later in the same article, we learn: "At the EPA complex in Sacramento, hundreds of thousands of worms process some five tons of food scraps per year. The 60-some bins are in offices, halls, even the daycare center. There is a waiting list for bins among employees, some of whom have been known to compete for whose office has the more productive worms."

Apparently the office compost worms prefer coffee grounds, moldy lettuce and rotting fruit, and don’t care much for ranch dressing. They also avoid fatty foods and carbohydrates–both of which are found in things like bologna sandwiches and pork barbecue. According to Andrew Hurst, who oversees the worm program at Cal EPA:

"They don’t have teeth, so things have to rot ... Worms need to be able to slurp it. "
But this is Alabama, not California, and here are a few practical questions you might want to ask yourself before bringing your own bucket of worms to the office:


1. Just how long will it be before the rotting worm food in the trash can under my desk starts to stink?

2. Knowing what I already know about inquisitive little toddlers who like sticking unusual things into their mouths to determine their function, do I really think having a can of worms in a daycare center, only a few feet from little Pookums, is wise?

3. Am I prepared to answer the PETA representative who will sooner or later appear at my office door, demanding that I stop exploiting worms for my own selfish purposes?

4. Do I realize that worms value their freedom, and that confining them indoors, in a stuffy office, inside a plastic can may cause them needless psychological suffering? Have I considered the fact that all worms long for the liberty of thick sod and rich soil, with nothing above but warm sunlight and fluffy clouds (and of course the occasional garden slug)?

5. Ah, can I remember the words to "Born Free"? Maybe I should sing a few bars right now.

6. Can I envision my worms accompanying me on a carefree day at the lake? Don’t I think they’d prefer that, with gulls flying overhead and fishies waiting eagerly to play with them, to slaving away in an office building for less than minimum wage, with no health benefits?

7. If I see DeWayne, my immediate supervisor, harassing my worms with a rubber chicken or a piece of wax fruit (or worse, threatening them with the paper shredder), will I report it or simply ignore the problem?

8. What if, God forbid, one of my worms becomes emotionally attached to an attractive rubber band in the supply room?

9. Will worm slime make my fingers stick to the computer keyboard?

10. Has it even crossed my mind that the Los Angeles "worm lady" is full of ... compost, when she says that you can leave a can of worms sitting around an office, "go away for two weeks and ignore them and they’re fine"? As a fisherman who values and respects a good, healthy, wriggling worm, I know if I leave a can of worms sitting around the office for just a couple of days and ignore them, what I will have is a can of dead co-workers. Unless, of course, I put them in the refrigerator.


That last point, the one about worms in the refrigerator, calls to mind an incident which I vividly remember from my childhood. It occurred in a lakeside cabin in northern Michigan, and involved a can of nightcrawlers and a bowl of leftover chili, both placed carefully in a refrigerator to keep them fresh and lively. It also involved my dad, and for several years thereafter made him turn an unusual shade of green every time I reminded him of it. I mention this only because it convinced me that keeping worms within crawling distance of your lunch is always a bad idea. Oh sure, you could tell your worms to behave themselves because they are in an office setting, not a fishing cabin, but etiquette means nothing to a worm.

So to those California worm exploiters I would say, let your worms go free. After all, they were born free, as free as the wind blows, as free as the grass grows, born free to follow their hearts (your common earthworm has ten).

A free worm is a happy worm. And free, happy worms make much better catfish bait.