I finally disposed of my broken computer monitor in an environmentally friendly way -- though there were times the dumpster seemed a good alternative. Filled with components containing such hazardous elements as arsenic, mercury, cadmium, beryllium, chromium, nickel and zinc, a monitor is nothing you want ending up in a landfill.

And don't forget the lead: Used to shield against harmful X-rays emitted during normal operation, the glass display is infused with this heavy metal -- around six pounds' worth in my 19-inch display. Tossed into a landfill, that lead could slowly leach out, contaminating groundwater all around. Imagine the well-known health hazards posed by a fleck of lead paint; now multiply that fleck by a couple million times and you begin to get an idea of the possible health hazards involved.

So what to do with my nonfunctional monitor? Recycling it was the obvious answer, and since it was computer technology that had gotten me into this mess, I figured it should be able to get me out as well. I turned to the Internet, expecting to make short work of the problem. It was easy enough to find a wealth of nearby programs offering to reuse my computer equipment; I've donated working but obsolete (at least for me) equipment to such organizations in the past, but of course they wanted nothing to do with my bum monitor.

There was no end of environmental sites admonishing me not to dump it, but few that offered concrete alternatives near me. I found businesses that recycle computer equipment in bulk, but they wouldn't touch my paltry single monitor. Then there were companies that would take it, but only if I dropped it off -- in places that seemed invariably halfway to Richmond or well past Baltimore.

I was getting discouraged. I started to wonder just how many people would go through the time and effort to do what I was doing, and how many more would just toss their monitor out with the rest of the trash. Few of the former, it turns out, and quite a lot of the latter. Scott MacDonald, waste reduction program manager for Arlington County's Department of Environmental Services, well knows how difficult it can be for the average person to recycle his nonworking computer equipment -- he constantly sees monitors and such sitting on the curbside to be collected with other household waste.

It turns out that city and county governments, long the go-to source for recycling such traditional hazardous materials as motor oil and pool chemicals, also accept computers and their related peripherals -- e-cycling, it's called, and demand for it has surged tremendously in recent years. So much so, in fact, that most jurisdictions have been caught a bit flat-footed. While they'll take computers and monitors, none offers stand-alone programs dedicated to tech recycling.

Instead, their programs are generally folded into their regular hazardous material, or hazmat, collections. It was this lack of distinction between transmission fluid and a computer monitor -- both considered hazmats -- that presented the biggest stumbling block in my Web search for a monitor recycler. Each time I got close, navigating to Arlington's hazardous materials information page, for example, I moved on, figuring a service that included pesticide collection couldn't be what I was looking for.

Apparently, I'm not the only one: MacDonald estimates that "fewer than 5 percent of our residents use our service." If recycling a monitor were as simple as it is for soda cans, with curbside pickup and drop-off stations all around, everyone would do it. If only. It's that laundry list of toxic substances that turns a computer monitor into hazardous materials and makes recycling it much different -- and much more difficult -- than for last week's newspapers. So much more difficult, in fact, that the Environmental Protection Agency has promulgated extensive recommendations for reclamation sites to safely deal with the materials involved. (As to why recommendations instead of regulations, that's a whole other story, but basically, the EPA didn't want to scare off the few companies that are engaged in tech recycling.)

There's quite a bit of variation in hazmat/computer recycling programs from one municipality to the next. Arlington County has no frequent system in place; all it offers is a twice-yearly hazardous waste collection extravaganza (which is actually the norm for the area). Neighboring Alexandria, by contrast, opens its hazmat drop-off location each Monday. And if you're a resident of Howard County, you can drop off your old monitor six days a week.

Sarah Manning, co-owner of Subtractions LLC, a reclamation company in the region that serves numerous local governments, says that as difficult as it can be for people in the area to recycle their old monitors, "it's actually a lot harder for folks elsewhere. This area has done an admirable job" of setting up programs. Manning praised local governments for creating recycling opportunities; even with only twice-yearly offerings, Arlington provides more opportunities to properly dispose of tech wastes than most other places in the country, she says.

Regardless of your local jurisdiction's offerings, be prepared to pay a fee to keep your monitor out of a landfill. There's a lot involved in reclaiming the parts, and materials in an old monitor and the private companies contracted to do it are not out to lose money. Indeed, it could cost you anywhere from $5 to $17 -- depending on monitor size -- to be eco-friendly. Check with your city or county first, though, because some don't charge any additional user fees, but instead foot the bill through local tax dollars.

The problem associated with hazardous tech waste is only expected to get worse. The fact that more and more households are purchasing personal computers guarantees a never-ending stream of obsolete equipment. Add to that the explosive popularity of flat-panel LCD screens and their rapid displacement of conventional monitors, and you've got a lot of computer equipment potentially headed for landfills.

Arlington's MacDonald acknowledges the local patchwork approach to tech recycling can make it hard for consumers to know what to do with their old equipment, and it's "hard to base our program standards on others because they don't exist." That may change soon, though: There is a bill wending its way through a congressional committee that would mandate that consumers pay a recycling fee upfront, at the time computer equipment is purchased, to be used to pay for the equipment's eventual safe and environmentally sound journey into the cyber afterlife.

I finally found a local business that would take my 60-pound paperweight off my hands -- Waste Not of Sterling. All it took was a lot of Web research, scores of phone calls, messages, callbacks and referrals; a wasted trip to Montgomery County (where my lack of residency barred me from using its drop-off), and a nearly two-hour drive -- thanks to an accident on I-66 -- to get to Waste Not Recycling. Plus the $10 fee. Mother Earth just better thank me.