Do you come from a land down under?

Indeed I have. In a manner of speaking. I've spent a good portion of the past two days cleaning up the basement in an effort to make a welcoming work space where I can finally do some long-overdue bicycle maintenance. 

My wife Beth already had organized most of the good stuff down there over the summer, weeding out moldy Christmas decorations and storing the good ones in better-sealed Rubbermaid tubs, labeling the tubs of VHS tapes and children's books. But the place was filthy; we're talking dust, dirt, cobwebs and grit from deteriorating tuck-pointing. You know, the kind of filth that defies the vacuum on first attempt and billows into a choking, obscuring, Pig-Pen-like cloud that coats your throat and fills your nostrils, turning nasal effluent black. Yeah, gross.

Anyway, it's much better now, though a little tidying remains. Alas, there were few treasures discovered in the cleaning, though not as few as found on today's run, which was none. I did add two aluminum cans to the bike fund (enough to pay for the air in the tires), and picked up a wad of plastic shopping bags in the middle of Prairie Street.

I suppose the dearth of delights on the sloppy streets today makes room for a short tale about a previous find I promised in my first entry to explain, because picking up and keeping obvious trash begs explanation. One of the earliest forms of litter I encountered on my runs was empty cigarette packs, the hard packs from Marlboro and Newport mostly. I mean, there were a lot of them -- two or three at least every time I went out, and not always the same ones. 

Well, one day while weeding too-big clothes from my dresser I uncovered an old treasure I'd long ago forgotten. Stuffed in the back of a drawer under a stack of long-sleeve T-shirts was a wooden cigarette-pack holder made of cedar. This lovely piece of Americana has slots for two packs of smokes and a groove for a book of matches. Emblazoned on the front is a cigarette girl and a banner with the word "Cigarettes"; above the banner, in script, is "Wisconsin Dells, Wis." This kitschy souvenir from the '60s, likely picked up by my folks, was filled with old medals from junior high district and state solo and ensemble band contests. 

Putting 2 and 2 together, no easy task for a writer who is averse to mathematics, I realized I could create an art-kitsch display piece with a couple of the cigarette boxes I kept seeing (many of them are pristine). Indeed I found two well-preserved packs on my next run and snatched them up. Tapping out the tobacco remnants and pealing out the foil liners, I then concluded there could be function in this art. The display now stores a couple pair of my many earbud headphones (I think it's an addiction). I even dug out a pretty pink book of matches from my cousin's wedding, completing the look of authenticity. I think it looks great atop the gun cabinet Grandpa made.

Today's Stats

Temp: 9-12 degrees F

Distance: 5 miles

Weekly Total: 15 miles

Treasure: Nada.

iPod Playlist (shuffle)

I Can't Let You Go - Matchbox Twenty

Blue Eyes - Cary Brothers

Message In A Bottle (Live) - John Mayer

Straight To My Heart - Sting

Hey Jude - The Beatles

Mary's Place - Bruce Springsteen

A Murder Of One - Counting Crows

A Matter Of Trust - Billy Joel

Something's Missing - John Mayer

Strange Boat - The Waterboys

Biko - Peter Gabriel