In the grand scheme of things, the shopping cart epidemic is irrelevant. On a smaller scale, however, it points to a greater societal issue of lack of care and an obvious selfishness in choosing to disturb others' daily living in order to achieve greatest personal convenience.

The designated shopping-cart return area may seem parking lots away— one may be late, or have children to handle; an injury, lack of motivation. Whatever the excuse, a shopping cart ends up being left somewhere that is not in the designated shopping-cart return area, a choice that affects the lives of others in seemingly minuscule ways.

It's a busy day at the grocery store, Thanksgiving around the corner. There's one spot left— bingo! But, alas, a cart of the shopping variety thwarts the mission. The shopper may enter the store and shop only after moving the cart, haphazardly ejected as an obstacle at the hands of a time thief, another shopper whose existence is obviously more valuable in their eyes.

A Safeway employee steps outside, exhausted after another long shift, ready to finish up their last task before getting home. This task, which should be quick and simple, turns out to be arduously menial. The employee must collect each stray cart left abandoned by ignorance and a lack of responsibility. The minutes tick by, arms strained from pulling and pushing carts out of obscure corners, parking spaces, bushes. Their day is made more difficult by a deficit of common courtesy, that which could have been the most simple act of graciousness.

In the end, it's not about the shopping cart. It's about the degradation of the dignity of others by a lack of respect for their time, effort, manpower, and worth. Such carelessness insinuates a belief that one is more valuable than another, that of course someone else deserves to take care of it. The bottom line is that it's not their job. It's our job, as humane counterparts, to have some decency, to just put the darn cart away.

Start small. Save a horse, return a shopping cart.