My World: The Decline of Lake Cumberland

This summer I had the privilege of being able to work at Beaver Creek Marina down at Lake Cumberland.  It was awesome.
When I wasn't cleaning boats, I was sitting at the gas docks partaking in the local illegality-beer.   
But with all this time to sit and think, I couldn't help but notice and think about all the trash and pollution that is willingly dispersed throughout the lake.  
Lake Cumberland is a beautiful body of water with high hanging rock walls, luscious growth of surrounding trees, and the sight of those rolling Kentucky hills.  However, thanks to the dam being repaired, the rising waters washed up trash and litter on the shoreline that had collected over years of use on the waterways.  
Close to where I was living, there was a boat ramp that doubled as a beach for people to hang out. Some people get mad because it's supposed to be used as a ramp, not a campground, but as for me, I kind of liked the idea.
In a country town there really isn't much else you can do, and to quote a Steve Earle song, "You drive down to the lake and then you turn back around."
But what really ticked me off was how those people who were utilizing the boat ramp would treat the ramp like a landfill.
I would find beer cans or bottles, empty Doritos bags, meat packaging, styrofoam coolers, two liter bottles, empty container of worms, tampons, maxipads, and diapers.  
Some of these items you would only pick up if you were wearing a "hazmat" suit. It's disgusting what you would find down there and even more disgusting to myself personally when the problem could have been solved with the use of a garbage bag.
But to the uneducated redneck who threw her spent tampon on the fire pit I made, I get it: that whole garbage bag thing is too technologically advanced, and it's not going to catch on.
But along with the trash that is visible comes the pollution in the water. Houseboats have been aerial-photographed discharging their waste tanks into the water. Why?
At Beaver Creek it costs $10 to have your tanks pumped out-a simple fee for a simple sanitary process. But I guess it's too much trouble to call into Beaver Creek and make sure there is a spot open on the gas dock.
I have a boss who used to come to Cumberland at a younger age who said the water used to be crystal clear.  It's sad to hear that because there's no reason it still couldn't be like that.
When cleaning the boats we would use chemicals like bleach and degreaser. The top decks of the big house boats would get doused in these chemicals, scrubbed, and then washed off into the waters without a care.
We would look off the back of the boat and see a white haze in the green waters and jokingly announce, "Hey, we're cleaning all the **** out, right?"
I use Lake Cumberland as a symbol for the world as a whole. This world can be gorgeous, depending on where you are living, but we are slowly destroying it. Now, I am not a hippy-ecologist-Al Gore kind of person, but I do, in fact, love the outdoors. I'd rather live out in the middle of nowhere, in the mountains, where I can shoot off guns and ride a four-wheeler without getting the cops called and see the stars the way they were supposed to be seen: without light pollution.
And I just hope that when I'm older we don't get too advanced as a society to where I can't enjoy the simpler and finer things in life.