Gross Gum Patterns

Spending time in nature leads you to wonder about lots of things. And it leads you to observe patterns, or designs. Cities don't leave much to wonder about. Some of this is intentional -- who wants to wonder how they'll eat next, or where to dispose of waste? I admit that I do spend lots of time wondering when the next bus will come, but this isn't the kind of wondering that's very good for the spirit. 


So it made me happy when I started to notice this unintended pattern in the city. It's pretty yucky, though. (I've been spending time with my 3-year-old niece, can you tell?) 

Gum Pattern at 26th and South Van Ness, SF, 2011.

Sidewalks near convenience stores seem to show the pattern the strongest: gum blobs dropped near the entrance and blackened on the street. The black dots are more dense near the door. Now, it makes me wonder: is this from cigarette smokers who are nearing the entrance of the store, where they will get their fix? Or is it from the store operators themselves, who chew gum to pass the time, then bolt outside and flick their gum for a quick smoke? Or - people leaving the store, just having bought some Ho-Hos and anxious for that first delicious bite?


I've also noticed these patterns around trees that have been planted on the street. People with bad aim, I guess; also the bad judgement to assume that their chewing gum will just naturally incorporate back into the soil at the base of the tree. Isn't it supposed to take seven years to break down in your stomach (citation needed)? It must take even longer just on the street, with no stomach acids to battle.


The study of these patterns, which is clearly needed, should analyze not only the demographics of the gum-tosser, but also the flavor of the discarded gum. Bubble gum or mint? Juicy Fruit? If mint, spear or pepper, or Double? Big League Chew? Not unless you're close to a baseball diamond.