The Collector

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In Those Days, things seemed simpler. Nothing was green. By that I mean there were no efforts to conserve raw materials and natural resources. One could waste and pollute most anything at will. Water was all but free, and gasoline was really cheap. No smog devices or recycling rules. Pour your used antifreeze down the gutter and the motor oil on a dirt road to keep the dust down. Just a two cent per bottle deposit on soda bottles so that someone could refill them if they were returned.

I liked Those Days, but I like the conservative days of today better. It's just the rules about recycling that bug me, and the recycle collector himself, and in particular the one I had when I lived in Los Angeles.

I remember the days when the collector had to work. I mean real work, lifting those barrels by hand and spilling the slop into the back of a truck. I respected them and did everything I could to ease their pain. But today, they are different. In LA, the collection trucks are huge, triple rear axles, and automated lifting arms with monitors to see what is going into the truck, all from the air conditioned cab. Now, I'm sure that these guys get at least 8 hours of training at Wally's Truck Driving School, and they call themselves professional drivers. I suppose they are and they are well paid. In fact, they make about the same (more with O/T) as cops, nurses and teachers, even though those professions have a lot more responsibility and untold hours of training.

I loved to watch those huge trucks make their pick ups, and I did so when ever I could. With just the touch of a joystick, an arm would extend between the parked cars, grab the container, lift it high and slam it into the truck in less that 10 seconds. Amazing. In LA, we had 3 large containers. A black one for garbage, a blue one for paper and glass, and a green one for yard debris. Everything had to be properly separated and had to be within the weight limit for the can.

So one day, I was watching the collector. He grabbed the black can, but set it back at the curb. I approached him as he was driving off and he yelled back that it was overweight. Now, what is one supposed to do? I took out about 200 pounds of broken concrete from the slop can, and hoped that he would take the rest, plus the new stuff the next week.

Now, I still had the broken concrete the following week and couldn't put it out because it would make the black can overweight again. Well the black can man came and took his load as I watched. Moments later, the blue can man came, but when he dumped it, shredded bits of paper flew out all over my lawn like confetti. Now, usually it's just a few pieces of newsprint that flies out (which he never stops to pick up) and I got used to that crap. But how was I supposed to pick up thousands of the tiny bits? I stopped the blue can man and he said shredded paper should be put in the slop can. But the blue one said it was for paper and shredded paper is still paper. And how would putting shredded paper in the slop can prevent it from flying out when dumped? I was confused and fed up with the collector's service.

So the following week, I put the 200 pounds of broken concrete in the blue can, knowing that paper was light and it would not be over weight. Now, I knew that it would wreak havoc on the machine that sorts the paper, but that was my way of getting even with the collection idiots. And I thought the blue can guy would never know because the paper all ready inside the truck would cushion the impact of the concrete landing inside.

Wrong... While I stood there watching, the blue can collector arrived and I watched as he made the pick up. Boom!!! Apparently the truck was pretty empty and when the heavy concrete landed, it shook the whole truck. And when he saw the concrete through his monitor, he jumped out of his truck and approached me. We spoke briefly before he realized that he was about be be socked in the nose, and left in a hurry, with the concrete in his load.

I won. I never had another problem with the LA collectors (partly because I left that City). And I did it all without the power of the Thought Dock.
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