When my oldest grandchild Archer reached the age to walk rather than be pushed around the neighborhood in a stroller, he noticed lots of shiny tabs laying on the road. Knowing full well that these have no special scrap value than the can itself, I encouraged him to pick these up for the reduction in litter. This became a fun game for a few years. I’d keep some tabs in my pocket and surreptitiously toss them out for the joy of discovery, us having picked all the streets clean already.
When Archer outgrew the tab game, I continued to collect them for Ronald McDonald House Charities (RMHC)—them being happy to play along for the easy money from clean and closely-packed aluminum. Yesterday, after popping off tabs for 5 years or so, I emptied out my bottle (pictured) at the Minneapolis chapter.
Here are some interesting statistics on pop tabs that I gleaned from the internet:
- They were invented in 1974.
- There are 1,267 in one pound.
- The value of scrap aluminum ranges from 30 to 40 cents per pound.
- The Minneapolis RMHC started the Pop Tab Collection program in 1987, which then spread nationwide–they have raised more than $800,000 for their chapter alone since the founding.
Before turning in the tabs, I ran a contest with 24 of my relatives at our annual reunion last week. I started it off with my guess of 1500, which evidently biased the estimates because they came out to very near that value on average. Using the new histogram feature Design-Expert® software version 12, I produced the graphic shown. The program’s diagnostic tools revealed a nearly normal distribution other than one overly high guess from one of my brothers-in-law, who incorrectly extrapolated how many beverages I drink from observation of the quantities being consumed at the reunion.
The actual count was 1838. The winner guessed 1858 for first prize of ten dollars. Archer, now 8, helped me count, came in second and won two dollars plus another dollar for assisting. He was thrilled.
I’m starting up a new collection now. It’s a bother to bend them off the cans before I crush them but it’s a habit that provides a very small measure of satisfaction every time I drop one in the bucket.