Yesterday was “trash day.” That’s the weekly ritual of scrambling to empty the kitchen and bathroom and miscellaneous other trash into the big, grey trash bin provided by the city.  Trash day coincides with “recycling day,” which involves depositing into the big blue bin provided by the city any remaining glass and plastic and metal and paper recyclables that haven’t already made their way to it.

The size and weight of the trash in the grey bin has, fortunately, shrunk considerably since the city began collecting virtually all recyclable materials.  We have very little trash these days. But we have trash and we expect our taxes to be used to appropriately dispose of said trash.

But for reasons unknown, our big grey trash bin was left untouched in the alley yesterday. The big grey bins left out by our neighbors were emptied into the monstrous trucks that swallow the contents of those bins, but ours was ignored, leaving our trash bin, alone, in the alley.  Our bin included freshly-deposited chicken carcasses, which had been stored in sacked marked “trash” in the freezer, to begin the process of odorizing the neighborhood. Fortunately, the weather was quite cool and turned sharply colder overnight, so the brakes have been applied to odor creation.  But, unless the trash truck returns to fetch its forgotten cargo, there will be an unwelcome smellfest a-comin’ in the near-term.

My wife called the city to complain that we were left out, ignored, and left to our own trashy devices; she was told they would send someone out within 24 hours to collect the forgotten treasure.

The full-to-overflowing recycling bin was emptied as normal.  I returned it to its place inside the garage, where it can accept all the paper and plastic and metal and glass we throw its way.  But the trash bin remains, alone, on the edge of the alley, hoping someone will come to the rescue, so it can return to its proper place next to the fence gate.

I am fortunate to be able to consider this little oversight something of significance.  Most of the people on the planet, I suspect, have far, far more onerous things to occupy their minds.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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2 Responses to Trashy

  1. Trish says:

    *squashed* down cartons….damn!

  2. Trish says:

    I have trashy stories too, John.

    I left long before the trash recycling program where instituted. However, I did familiarize myself with it on lengthy visits to one of my sisters house in San Jose, CA. You’ve got your blue and grey bins. However, it was so complicated (at least for me) on garbage day, at here place, for she had so many bins, all color coded. Her entire street looked down right psychedelic each Thursday morning pick up! She had two bins such as yours, then one for tin and aluminum cans, another exclusive to glass bottles, one for swashed down carton boxes, still another dedicated to grass cuttings, leaves and branches. Whew! It was dizzying!! Often wondered after all this, what the garbage men have left to do? Inside her house it was just as complicated. I had to ask which waste basket I could deposit my Kleenex in without screwing up the system! I just never knew! Lol!!

    Down here we only have..hmm, about 3 years since the scavenger companies requesting the public to separate their trash. A very Mexican style, I might add. Organic and non-organic. No bins, no colors, no frills. I use one of those big black trash bag (Kirkland-Costco) for the non organic, and just put the bag against the light post, and a old bucket with a lid for the organic. We do have the very good fortune in that the garage pick up is Monday through Saturday. Yes, that’s right! One day the organic, next day, non organic. And yet, would you believe there can still be trash on the streets! That really irks me…there’s no excuse, yet it does happens…big sigh.

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