Trash Talk 

I am a Superfan of Garbage Day. Are you? 

For a small service fee, our garbage collectors stop at the top of my driveway in all weather every single Wednesday to remove our household scraps, junk, and muck. For me, it’s a weekly cleansing opportunity. 

I love taking out the trash. The fresh air and extra steps offer a literal and metaphoric chance to lift my arms of litter and make a difference by getting rid of the sour, the slimy, and the useless. 

In the short span of a week, a lot can pile up, so I’m thrilled to fill my big brown garbage bin to the brim. Do you fill your bin to the brim? Is there a weight limit, you ask? Most residential trucks can lift 300-800 pounds of trash from the standard 95-gallon bin. How do I know this, you wonder? 

Recently. I had the pleasure to take my old garbage man Wil for a walk. I hadn’t seen him in years, since my early morning running days. I knew he still cleaned up my neighborhood though because every December, he sealed his Christmas card in a plastic bag taped to the bin lid. I send one back in the recycled bag with a little Christmas bonus that I make out to One-L-Wil. It’s a cool way to exchange season’s greetings and gratitude. 

So last month, while walking my dogs before work on a Wednesday, Wil and his new helper Joe, came down the hill screeching to a hault. While Joe dumped Mrs. Martin’s trash with an automatic hydraulic side-arm mechanism called a grabber, Wil hopped out of the truck to say hello. We stood and chatted, him shooting the breeze, talking about the weather and our sore knees. 

I said, “I’m a walker now. No more running.”

Wil said, “I walk here and there.” 

“Yeah, I need to finish and go to work.”

“How much further?” Wil asked. 

“The dogs and I have six more minutes.” With that, Wil, in his fluorescent vest, waved off Joe to grab a few more cans to walk down the hill with us. 

We briefed each other about our work, dogs, and recent loss of our mothers. No politics, no religion, no gossip about the neighbors. Just good old trash talk. Joe picked him up at the cul de sac. Sending good thoughts to Wil on his upcoming knee replacements. 

Speaking of replacements, I had to order a new garbage bin because the attached lid broke. 

TO BE CONTINUED…