June 8, 2005
-
Dumpster Diving Redux
This blog was inspired by a recent query from AlfredNYC, along the lines of–”What were you doing in the dumpster?” (Now THERE’S a straight line.) The short answer is, saving money and recycling–retrieving useful items that would other wise have clogged the local landfill. But the whole answer goes way farther than that.
Our income is below the federal poverty line–sometimes the donations that Kathy (SuSu) gets in the purple Paypal hat on her site mean the difference between paying a bill, or not paying a bill. And we would not live nearly so well as we do were it not for the local dumpster–and the help of the Dumpster Deva (the guardian angel, so to speak, of dumpsters and those who dive therein).
For instance, this morning I had Quaker oatmeal that I got out of the dumpster–jazzed it up with a handful of out-dated trail mix I got at the local discount center. As I write, I am wearing a hat, Jockey shorts, jeans, and a watch (from the SpongeBob Squarepants collection, it features a watch part that revolves–one side has a digital face, the other side has a picture of Squidward)-all of which came from the dumpster. Kathy could breathe better for months thanks to a bunch of out-dated asthma medecine I found in the dumpster. In the winter, I sleep warm between flannel sheets I got out of the dumpster. I share my 10×12 cabin (Kathy and I maintain separate households) with four cats, who use a covered litter box I got out of the dumpster. I listen to music on cassette tapes and CDs that I got out of the dumpster. At her place, Kathy listens to NPR on a Sony boombox that I got out of the dumpster. She makes calls on a cordless phone I got from the dumpster.
But wait, there’s more! One day, I found a wadded up $5 bill in the pocket of a pair of jeans I got out of the dumpster. More recently, I found a trove of coins–including a 1917 large Canadian cent, an 1887 Mexican peson, and two Kennedy halves–in a Zip-loc that was in a beat-up old tackle box–from the dumpster. Just yesterday, I fished out three boxes of Christmas stuff–garlands, little table-top size artifical trees–some slightly used, some in the original wrapper. Pretty much worthless now, but I should be able to sell it at the local holiday bazaar come this November. The stream of stuff is endless, but the most spectacular find was from a small shop that went out of business–I once got about 50 pairs of vintage 1950 earrings–I have been getting between $10 and $20 a pair for them. Kathy will probably recall a bunch of other good stuff.
I have a three-pronged garden tool that I use to fish stuff out of the dumpster with, as well as one of those grabber thingies that store clerks use. Sometimes, I do actually climb inside the thing, but usually don’t–it is not necessary, and it is often hazardous. And I am limited by my physical disabilities–I am sometimes tempted to try to salvage a big color TV, but my hernia (among other things) makes that too risky.
When I remember, I slip on a pair of vinyl gloves–which (you guessed it!)–I got out of the dumpster.
Comments (7)
Wow. That’s unbelievable.
whoa man! My dad does that too. One time he was climbing out of one, (he wanted to get a dresser drawer at the bottom) and some guy saw him and thought he was homeless! So this guy gave my dad $50. Yea. Crazy shit.
Off to read SuSu.
This country is so wasteful. I’m glad there are people who benefit from it.
i think of a four letter word when you say dumpster dive…e-b-a-y
Bet you could earn alot at flea markets/yard sales, whatever you guys call them up there
Hee hee… I’m in Canada… love being able to say “up there.” Heh
^Actually–as my site points out on the sidebar–I do have a business at a flea market, and am the only vendor there with an actual business license and everything.
And–as I point out in the blog–I do not earn “a lot.”
Hey, I still wear some of the clothes you gave me that came outta dumpsters when you lived in PA! Most go to buggy camp instead of the real world cuz they’re all beat up now, but they keep me warm and dry on the trails! Dumpster diving? Well, we call them ‘trail finds’ … funny story about the Fat Man tho. We stopped at a spot and he saw a peppermint laying on the trail … no idea how long it’d been there,… he picked it up and popped the whole thing in his mouth to get the wrapper off, we all sorta joked about how disgusting that was, and he just shrugged. (Keep in mind this guys shirts get shorter and shorter on the rides, because instead of carrying toilet paper he just rips off the bottom of his shirt!) Love this blog thang, or whatever you Alaskans call it. I’m new here.