Where's All The Trash Compactors?

SUPER CHEAP TRASH COMPACTORS FOR ALL!

Friends, I have a trash compactor: My foot scrunching it down to save money on trash bags! I know, I know, very grim humor.

Like everyone, I too looked forward to a bright future of electric trash compactors for everyone. Where your garbage would be smashed down about the size of a grape. We really wanted that "brave new world" of very tiny trash (Alvin Toffler, Aldous Huxley.) Making it a true "future shock" when it didn't happen.

I don't know for sure what happened. I haven't seen an authoritative report on the subject for years. Whether everyone forgot what they promised, or it was found not to be feasible, or there was some other more sinister reason, this is what I don't know. I could let my mind wander ahead of me and conceive what might have happened, but I hate to rouse forces that are too powerful for me once exposed.

For now, I'll just pretend that I think it's a case of forgetting or the idea not being feasible. It's too dangerous to suggest something more sinister, although naturally the mind can barely help spotting a conspiracy. Just like cars that were supposed to have such fuel efficiency we'd only stop at a gas station once a month. Although I can almost see the logic to that conspiracy, since gas stations would never be able to stay in business, then when we needed one once a month, there wouldn't be any.

The fact that we don't all have our own trash compactor might be similar. Who makes the big huge dump trucks that pick up the big huge trash? The car companies, the same industry! They make big money at it. If we all had trash compactors, then any little entrepreneur with a push cart could make a sweep through town and pick it up himself. Then there's all the others with a vest interest in keeping garbage big: garbage bag manufacturers, city workers, tire makers for the trucks, etc. Even recyclers are in on it! Since they want their garbage pristine, many not even accepting flattened cans!

The government itself might be involved. And my opinion on every conspiracy is the same: If the government might be involved, they definitely are. Because these are always the guys with the best access to the strings from which everything else dangles. I myself could serve as a microcosm of what's going on, thinking back to the year I got the marionettes for Christmas. When you haven't got them, you're very content not to play with them; you don't know any different. But when you get them, you can't help playing with them and making them jump. So it is in government.

We all thought things were going to get better when the year 2000 got here, rich and poor alike. A trash compactor for $29 or cheaper! But we all saw how that worked out. The "future" was exactly the same as the "past," a scarcity of trash compactors and no push to do anything about it.

My Daddy's Advice

I had a sudden flashback today when I was taking the garbage out, of my dear Daddy and his sage advice.

First, let me say, this has been a long time coming. I've been trying to be very economical, so when it comes to the trash, I want to use the big plastic bags as much as I reasonably can. It gets to a certain level, and anyone would immediately tie it up and haul it out. But because I'm trying to get economical, I get up there with my foot and press it down tighter. That frees up space to keep putting more stuff in it, banana peels, used paper towels, and other crap, coffee grounds, etc.

I have to confess, I think about the bacteria on the bottom of my shoe. But no one's dropping dead, so it must not be that bad. I forget about it and go on with my business, knowing that I'm saving money in the long run, the more garbage I can fit into one bag.

Anyway, getting back to my Daddy. He's gone now, so I'm left all alone to carry on as best I can. But fortunately he talked to me over the years and let me know the things I'd need to know...

So I was thinking of him today as I got up over the trash and tried to compress it further down. It wouldn't budge, meaning it was as compact as it was going to get. It was time to change the bag and take this one out.

My Daddy's words came back to me, traveling over the years once again into my consciousness. Sitting on his knee, I heard him once again: "Son, someday you'll be a man, as old as me. And I won't be there to tell you what to do. You'll be all grown up and on your own. So I'm going to need to tell you right now what to do, so that when you're on your own, you won't lose your way."

I always gave close attention to his teaching, and now I'm glad I did. "Son, someday when you're filling up trash bags, there's some things you need to know." I remember this all so clearly, because I remember cutting him off with my childish protests, "Daddy, it'll never happen. You'll always be with me. You'll always be there to take care of the trash."

He put a gentle finger to my lips, to silence me, and I remember seeing a tear in his eye. "Hush, young one," he said with unlimited patience. My lip started to quiver as I realized he wasn't just "funnin' me." The old codger was serious. "Let me speak. I might drop dead right now." Then he told me, "When you're filling trash bags, press it down very tightly, as much as you can. You'll save money that way, money that may come in handy for other things you might want."

This was a long time ago, but I remember it like it was tomorrow.

How Bad It'd Be To Lose An Arm

I've been thinking about something I said yesterday about the garbage pickup guys:

Some locally based guys come and check our garbage cans. Their truck has a door that swings up. They're trained so they won't lose an arm.

It's been going through my mind intermittently for the last 24 hours, the idea of losing an arm (or anything, really). It'd be like a cat losing its tail. I saw a cat without a tail the other day and was happy that somehow it probably learned to adjust. Even though I heard that cats use their tail for balance.

If we lose an arm, and if they can't get it reattached properly, of course we have to learn to adjust. But how terrible it'd be to have to go through such a thing!

I said "They're trained so they won't lose an arm." That's just an assumption I made, since I've never seen a one-armed garbage pickup guy. It stands to reason that doesn't just happen. Or it could be they have safety points and you lose an arm, you're out. And it makes some sense, not that I'm against equal opportunity; I'm not. But you need one arm to hold the truck with and one arm to be reaching for a garbage can.

Also, since garbage comes in many different arrangements at the curb, it'd be tough hoisting it around with one arm. Although it could be done -- again by adjustment. Man has done a lot with no arms, like the guys who paint with a brush in their teeth or between their toes. So I'm not saying it couldn't be done.

I've lost a few things over the years. Quite a bit of hair, a few teeth, I guess that's about it. Just taking a quick inventory here. I can still hear, see, taste, feel, and smell. Although, recall, I do have periodic issues with my sense of smell, what I call (with doctors) olfactory hallucinations. They're OK for the most part now. I don't have any big troubles. I do smell things once in a while that I'm not sure are really there, like going from room to room. But I also emphasize my smelling, it seems, because I'm so aware of the way the olfactory problems were when they were bad. It's like constant testing, which is what adjustment comes from.

But I still have two arms, two legs, two ears, two eyes, all of which work. All my fingers and toes are there. So I'm blessed that I haven't been caught in anything yet. I've known people who've lost a finger, a toe, missing arms, etc. I knew a guy who was born with a poorly formed, stubby arm that wasn't even an arm. But he did all right. He was able to play basketball, one handed and using what he had on the other side too. So it can be overcome ... of course.

Worse than being born with it -- in which case you don't know any different -- is being an old guy like me, then losing something. Just speaking out of imagination. You'd definitely know the difference.

My experience with regrets is they don't do a lot of good. They might make you more cautious the next time. Not that you weren't cautious the first time, but accidents still happen. Still, I would have regrets. I have regrets now, for all the good they do. You look down and there's no arm looking back, it has to be heartbreaking.

The Local Man's Garbage (Tweets)

I should say to those who don't know, Grandma is my grandma. I am her grandson. She taught me many things I know. She partially raised me.

So that's our story.

Now I'm grown up, I live here still, in the same house we've always had since they first got it back before I was born. It's familiar to me.

It's one of the local houses in the town of which we are a part. Our address is one of the standard addresses that shows up on maps.

I've always been happy to live locally, because you do get very used to it. Every tree, every post, every eaves trough, I'm used to seeing.

Out of all the people in the town, I am one. I'm the one who pays the most attention to myself, it's safe to say, keeping my reputation.

I'm proud to introduce myself and how I think of myself. I call myself the local man, because that's proudly what I am, how it works.

There's nothing strangely out of whack in my world. I abide very much at the local level, eating my food and taking the garbage out weekly.

Some locally based guys come and check our garbage cans. Their truck has a door that swings up. They're trained so they won't lose an arm.

Local Man Takes Garbage Out

I am the local man. Everything I do, I do right here at the local level.

Whether it's mowing the yard, going for milk, voting, on and on, it's all done locally, where I live.

When I get up in the morning, I'm right here, locally based. It's a very compact way to live, but it's a good way. It's what I'm used to.

The activities are the same over and over. But that's what life is. I get up, tend to the animals, do all my personal things, get a bagel and some milk, maybe some tea. Like that. All this I do locally.

I took the garbage out. That's something that needs to be done. I almost forgot, then I remembered.

The garbage included some things that really needed to go out. I'd hate to keep them around for another week. The garbage included some bags of cat poop and used litter, a bunch of dog duty that I clean up dutifully each time, as well as the usual kitchen stuff, old tomato tops and bottoms, bones from food, oily paper towels, spent teabags, and so on.

We have a local garbage service that runs it as a business, hiring people, then putting them on a regular schedule. They get the job done.