When in purge mode we make dump runs. Sunday we hauled the remains of cement forms and more cast-offs from early reno dreams to the Cloverbar sanitary landfill which lies between The Fort and Edmonton off Yellowhead. We had Dee and her bff in the back seat happily gorging on Dairy Queen and the good fortune to be sent to the transfer station instead of up Mount Garbage.
The transfer station is where “clean garbage” and recyclable stuff is tossed. Mount Garbage is an ever expanding tower of dirt over crap that no one wants but is too lazy to donate before it becomes worthless.
While Rob was tossing old wood and windows beyond reclamation into our assigned dumpster, a youngish appearing couple backed in next to us and proceeded to offload a truck bed plus a back seat’s worth of children’s stuff. Toys and clothes by the bag full and in decent condition, a serious collection of Disney movies on vhs and dvd and a hodge-podge of what might have been the accessories of a little girl’s bedroom.
Dee and her friend watched with horror as the women carelessly flung a jewelry box with nary a blemish that was quickly smashed to bits by a back hoe as it attempted to make more room in the dumpsters by squashing the contents.
One of the accessories the couple tossed was a beautiful wood framed full length mirror. The back hoe made short work of it.
The couple had unloaded without much conversation and were quickly back in their truck and gone as the sanitation worker directing traffic, Rob and our two little females in the back seat watched with interest that kept falling off the edge of disbelief.
Why would people throw away nice stuff? Why not donate it?
My mind fell to some horribly tragic scenario of loss and indescribable pain. But that’s just me.
The old guy driving the back hoe parked and climbed up to get a peek at what we were all gawking at and shook his head.
“I never throw anything away,” he said. “My wife’s always at me about it, but I have a basement full of stuff I won’t get rid of.”
It’s the Oprah Intervention People who will survive the coming Apocalypse while the rest of us are staring blankly at our dark screens: computers, televisions and iPhones, they will be rummaging through their stash of ancient, but useful stuff, that doesn’t need a grid or even batteries.
The couple drove off. Him rather stony-faced and her all business. I still wonder about the little girl who is missing her stuff.