September 12, 2005

• It’s an Ill Wind. . . .No, Not Katrina

  
  

  SuSu recently wrote movingly about a recent incident at the flats, in which some ne’er-do-wells absconded and left behind a shitload of clothing and such.  And I use the word “shitload” advisedly–one of the bags I got out of the dumpster was indeed replete with domesticated primate feces.  As I was going through the sorry collection of stuff, I kept thinking, we need a better class of losers here so I can scrounge better stuff.  I also gave thanks repeatedly that I am free of the  human trait known as empathy–otherwise I would have found the experience profoundly depressing.

  
  

  Still, I kept thinking of the children who had to leave behind their toys and little personal items and clothing.  It’s not like they had a choice of parents–they never thought, hey, I want parents who are drug-addicted, shiftless white trash!  Okay, maybe some of the adults were  victims themselves, maybe they did in fact have precious little choice of circumstances–but I doubt it.  They are here because they made stupid, ill-considered, and probably drug-fueled decisions.  But it really sucks that the kids have to suffer–I don’t like children and  the less I have to do with any of them the better I like it–but I hate to see them abused.

  
  

  But enough of this mellerdrama.  What is, is–and the powerless, of any age, have always suffered at the hands of the relatively powerful, they always will, and all the tears and hand-wringing in the world will not change that.  On to the good stuff, the stuff that made me glad I spent the time and energy scrounging.

  
  

  I don’t know what all Kathy got out of the pile for herself.  There was a hand-held SEGA video game thingie with a game cartridge in it. There were two game controllers that Doug could maybe use someday, and a JVC VCR that might be made to work–it needs cords.  There was a pair of pretty good hiking boots that might fit him–I hope so, he needs footgear.  (And since my gross earnings for the last four days came to exactly $26.43, I am not about to be taking him to Footlocker any time soon. As I write, I am mostly  wearing clothing I got out of the dumpster myself–a ripped Alaska t-shirt and OD green Dockers cargo pants.)

  
  

   For openers, I got one of those handy hanging wire-mesh  basket sets–right now, it is dangling from a nail in the ceiling, holding a bunch of videos.  I hope the cats don’t discover it.  I got a few little odds and ends, like a brush I can use to groom the cats , a neat plastic caliper ruler thing, 47 cents in cash, and a mostly unused stick of Right Guard anti-perspirant which  went into my shower pack.

  
  

  On to bigger and better–I got a 35mm Olympus camera, film in it, and a spare roll–it works, I don’t know how well.  I got a SONY  AM-FM Walkman which also works, and a Magnavox CD player that works better than the one I splurged $2 on at a yard sale. There was a cassette tape of some great easy listening jazz, which is in my car stereo right now. I got  the soundtracks on CD from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer musical episode and Dirty Dancing.  I got upwards of twenty VHS tapes–I haven’t checked them all, but the titles that play include Limbo (the John Sayles cult film), Robot Monster (a fifties cult film, in B&W three-D), Bloodsport, Finding Nemo, and Lemony Snicket.

  
  

  Finally, one little item which shows to me what an awesome sense of humor the Dumpster Deva has.  Back when I was rich, I had a whole shelf in the bathroom full of expensive cologne and after-shave (now I don’t even have a fucking bathroom, and I haven’t shaved  in almost twenty years–but I digress!)–stuff like Royall Spyce, Geoffrey Beane’s Gray Flannel, and my favorite–Drakkar Noir. Well, I found a little tiny (5ml!) bottle of Drakkar Noir.  I smell like it now.

  
  

  It makes a nice change from the Tommy Hilfiger I found earlier this summer in the same dumpster!

  • 2:58 pm
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