garbage cans

April 9, 2010

When I was a kid, way back in the last century, the garbage man would stop his truck in from of our house, which was on a long dirt road, longer than this sentence, go around to the back of our little house, grab our garbage can, which was made of, believe it or not, galvanized steel, carry it around to his truck, dump the garbage, and take the can back behind our house.  Wow!  We had to stomp on the garbage to get it all in, because he would only take one can and it must have weighed eighty pounds.  Dad would give him a small gift at Christmas.

Somewhere along the way we come to today.  We can put out as many as eight cans/bags.  They are almost all plastic, and we have to put them out by the street.  The trash collectors dump the garbage, and if some lands on the ground they leave it to blow around the neighborhood.  They toss the cans into the yard, where the wind blows them around the neighborhood too.  Lazy slobs.  You can forward this to any town officials you know.

Back in Michigan companies competed for our garbage.  They pick up after themselves and us on occasion.  They always made sure the can was left upright with the lid firmly in place.  They knew if they did a bad job, someone else would come along and get the business.  They cared, unlike the local guys, who don’t care at all.

Sometimes people can be more like garbage cans then garbage men.  We might (or might not) look pretty good on the outside, but in the inside we are filled with rotting junk, waste matter, leftovers and unwanteds.  Left to our own devices we end up blowing around like garbage cans on a windy day, making noise and making a mess.

Then along comes The Guy From Waste Management.  You know, the one who died for us.  He picks us up, cleans us up, paints us up, and then converts us into something to be used for something else.  Some of us end up being huge planters filled with beautiful blooms.  Some of us are used to store food for the birds, some hold all the great long handled tools for keeping the yard looking nice.  But none of us stay the same after The Guy gets a hold of us.

I’m still just a trash can, but I am being used for a far greater purpose these days.

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