Spring is sputtering to life here in Northern Illinois. Although it was only in the lower 50's on Sunday, the sun came out and I literally needed something to do outside to start chasing off the Winter blahs. So, as I stepped into the garage early in the morning and my shoes started crunching on the approximately 500 pounds of road salt that had flaked off the car and truck, I decided on my project for the day. A garage make-over.
This involves a determined mind set to look for things that have been thrown here and there since last Summer and getting them out to the curb before Jan figures out what I'm doing and starts bring them all back. This invariable leads to a heated argument, the drawing of firearms and a visit from the local police.
But yesterday, Jan was in a benelvolent mood, and even suggested that I throw away several things that I thought she'd never part with. So, after several hours, the floor was salt and dirt free, the shelves were wiped clean and everything was in top shape.
Sitting by the corner of the garage was an array of things I didn't want anymore. A 23 year old snow thrower that stalled whenever it sensed snow, a broken wicker basket, a fractured table, a cracked kitchen waste can, two plastic lawn chairs autographed in magic marker by one of Jan's classes from years ago, hoses, fittings and other general shit.
I took it all to the curb when the sun started to set. Our trash haulers are pretty good about taking everything away, just as long as we don't pile mounds of junk at the end of the driveway every week, so I knew that wouldn't be a problem.
But I shouldn't have been even the least bit concerned. By 5 a.m. this morning, it was all gone. And the trash dudes don't even start until 7 a.m.
Every piece of junk was gone, and even the ratty towels, rugs and garden hose that I had stuffed into the trash can itself ... poof! Gone. Only the three bags of kitchen refuse that we had manufactured during the week remained in the can.
I found this kind of amusing, and was glad that the trash man hadn't gotten to the stuff first, because this way my crap has another life, and it's fun to think of someone else cussing at that fucking snow thrower next winter when , roaring like it will take on the world single bladedly, it won't move one flake of snow.
Five years ago, I could have put the same junk out for pick-up, and nobody but the trash collectors would have taken it. But things are a little different today. One man's trash truly does becomes another man's treasure, or necessity.
If you turn on any all news station during the week, you'll hear various economic experts and other voodoo practitioners explain how the economy is getting better every month, even though the unemployment rate still tops 10 percent. Yes, bad economic times are over.
I'll believe that crock of shit the day I put junk out by the curb on a Sunday night, and it's still there on Monday morning.