Bulk Trash Day at Fort Chapman.
We have a new trash company here in my tony little Northern California burg and thus a new rubric regarding Bulk Trash. This is the stuff--like mattresses and pieces of Mom's old chairs--that embarrass my sister when she spots me, dressed entirely in black, hauling, on moonless nights, into my favorite local dumpster.
None of that, you guys!
No longer is there need for Ninja clothing and subterfuge. Bulk Trash has become so respectable it has its own days and its own receptacle(s)!
Bulk trash expert, Mr. Estrada, launches his crane.
Mission Trail Waste Systems (Fr. Junipero Serra had no idea how far his trail would go) drops off two big bags, each able to hold two cubic yards of Bulk Trash, and you have a week to fill them up. It takes a little maneuvering to get the cloth-y type bags to stand up, but once I got an old pink (broken) dresser that even the Salvation Army rejected into the bottom of one and a faux Spanish-revival (broken) chair in the bottom of another I was on my way.
The best part comes on pick up day. You get to watch this cool truck make it all go away.
So deft, he managed to avoid my deodara cedar.
The truck pulls up, its crane shoots out, and, whoosh: off went the toothless rake (an ancient garden tool, not an Old Boyfriend); off went the bed slats we forgot to sell with the bed (makes me think of that scene in the Great Escape); goodbye, goodbye, to the Alien-looking TV antenna I just removed from the roof---up they went on the crane and on into Bulk Trash Oblivion.
Better yet, I noticed the ingenious truck with its handy crane was an American-made Peterbilt and it was a hybrid! I looked it up and discovered that it also has some complex way of using its braking fluid to save up for later to launch its crane. Is America a great country, or what?
"Bulk Trash, swayin' in the summer breeze ..."
My father the engineer, who loved interesting trucks and equipment of all kinds, would have enjoyed the show that took place in front of his house. I'm sorry he missed it.
He would have been sorry, however, to see some of that stuff go. I know a lot of it would still have seemed useful to him. He always thought I was a wasteful wastrel.
I guess I am. Why else would it give me such a thrill to kiss that toothless rake goodbye?
Mr. Estrada pauses to pose with his cool truck.
Subscribe to Robin Chapman News
8 comments:
was it a slow news day in blogville? :-)
Nope. Just a little trash talkin'.
In my neck of the woods they're hauling away downed trees from Hurricane Irene. Janet
Hi Janet: Sorry to hear that. The aftermath of a hurricane is a really bad thing. I went through three in a row in 2004 in Central Florida and it wasn't any fun at all.
What fun to read this, Robin. In a time of bits, bytes, and chips, it's reassuring to see old fashioned American can-do ingenuity in action!
And I congratulate you on the "toothless rake" line!
You would love living in Northern California T & P S. It makes a lot of effort to be Green. And I think it pays big dividends in the end. Thanks for the praise. A rake of any kind, at this point, would be a thrill.
i, too, remember the thrill of having 3 hurricanes visit my neighborhood in 2004. i was without power for a week after the second one. my a/c died during the storm and it was 3 weeks before it got replaced.
btw, northern california is beautiful. i so prefer the pacific over the atlantic. i also spent almost 3 years in san diego. that was very nice too!
That summer was so difficult my good friends the Seymours sold their house on Lake Virginia and moved into a much more easily maintained and equally lovely one in a senior community--just in case it happened again they wouldn't have to deal with the mess of the aftermath. I remember the piles of yard trash we raked to the curb and the trucks (with cranes) that came along and hauled it away. Three times! They closed the soccer field in Winter Park all that fall for use as a staging area for the yard trash, which they mulched and hauled away. It was a mess all right. I hope I never see another one. On the other hand, we all survived, so I guess it was an adventure to remember.
Post a Comment