I am back with a vengeance today. What a day for a street scavenger! It's Clean Up Days (sic) in Galesburg. For my fellow grammarians out there, it should be Cleanup Days or at the least Clean-up Days.
I hit a new high (or maybe a new low) in street scavenging today. Ironically, I forgot to snag a bag when I left home this morning, so focused was I on the run — since it's been a week. I didn't even think about it until I hit the tracks at North Broad Street. At that point I figured, what the hell, and just kept running (and huffing and puffing, having rested on my laurels for a week).
Cleanup Days means lots of junk on the curb. And lots of potential goodies, too. I've always wished I had a pickup and the time to cruise the streets and break the law by scrounging some salvageable items from the curb. We call it Curb Shopping or Trashin' or Junkin'. It's a step above Dumpster Diving. But it's a shame we have become such a throw-away society that we're so inclined to pitch stuff that is either perfectly good but we just don't want it anymore or that has some minor malfunction or reparable damage we just don't feel like messing with.
I didn't have aspirations of truly trashin' today, mostly because I was on foot and on a schedule — working the day shift, in by 9! And while I was loathe to pick up something like a mattress from someone's trash pile, a chair or good wooden TV table or the like would be tempting — again, except for being on foot.
I hit a new high (or maybe a new low) in street scavenging today. Ironically, I forgot to snag a bag when I left home this morning, so focused was I on the run — since it's been a week. I didn't even think about it until I hit the tracks at North Broad Street. At that point I figured, what the hell, and just kept running (and huffing and puffing, having rested on my laurels for a week).
Cleanup Days means lots of junk on the curb. And lots of potential goodies, too. I've always wished I had a pickup and the time to cruise the streets and break the law by scrounging some salvageable items from the curb. We call it Curb Shopping or Trashin' or Junkin'. It's a step above Dumpster Diving. But it's a shame we have become such a throw-away society that we're so inclined to pitch stuff that is either perfectly good but we just don't want it anymore or that has some minor malfunction or reparable damage we just don't feel like messing with.
I didn't have aspirations of truly trashin' today, mostly because I was on foot and on a schedule — working the day shift, in by 9! And while I was loathe to pick up something like a mattress from someone's trash pile, a chair or good wooden TV table or the like would be tempting — again, except for being on foot.
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| I am reminded of the Berenstein Bears story "Too Much TV." |
But there it was, on the sidewalk leading to the curb in front of a house in the 800 block of North Broad Street, next door to my friend Stephanie's house, a really nice looking twin mattress and box spring. I mean, it was in good shape, no noticeable stains or odor, puffily quilted on both sides of the mattress.
Ah, but it was early in the run — not gonna haul that for three miles! Besides, I had enlisted the help of my friend Bill last night to move a twin bed from my folks' house — my old bed from childhood — and it seemed silly to have gone to that effort only to undo it less than 12 hours later. So I continued on my merry way.
One block east and one south I noticed a pretty blue rocker-recliner, again in quite good condition. Not gonna carry that home, though. Nearby I did spot a cute little toy car with a shark jaw for a front end, so I snatched that up off the ground. And a few blocks later I happened upon a perfectly good and seasonable plastic Easter egg bucket. Nice.
Ah, but it was early in the run — not gonna haul that for three miles! Besides, I had enlisted the help of my friend Bill last night to move a twin bed from my folks' house — my old bed from childhood — and it seemed silly to have gone to that effort only to undo it less than 12 hours later. So I continued on my merry way.
One block east and one south I noticed a pretty blue rocker-recliner, again in quite good condition. Not gonna carry that home, though. Nearby I did spot a cute little toy car with a shark jaw for a front end, so I snatched that up off the ground. And a few blocks later I happened upon a perfectly good and seasonable plastic Easter egg bucket. Nice.
Then, as I approached Seminary and Losey and was about to head south for home, I veered west instead and back to Broad Street. I gave closer inspection to the mattress. Very good condition — way better than my frayed and stained, smoke-infused, 40-year-old flopper (no, I was not a bed-wetter; it was that way when we got it used). I climbed the front steps of the house and rang the doorbell. A young man, perhaps in his late 20s or so, answered.
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| Which one came from the curb? |
"Sorry to bother you so early," I began.
"No problem," he said.
"Is there anything wrong with that mattress?" I asked.
"No."
"Can I have it?"
"Yeah. You can take the box spring, too."
"That's OK. I don't have any way to haul it, but I think I can carry the mattress on my back." (I was hoping he would offer to deliver them, what, with a van and two pickups in the drive.)
When no offer came, I hopped down the steps and back to the curb. Hoisted the mattress to my back and hustled off. Really, I almost jogged for a few yards, but the damned thing was so springy that it started bouncing and flopping like bird's wings, so I slowed to a hasty walking pace. Then I slowed to a normal walking pace. After a couple blocks I slowed to a stop to take a breather and give my aching arms a rest.
When finally I made it back to my apartment I paused for another breather, then called my buddy Shubie at my church down the street.
"Are ya busy," I asked.
"Yeah, I'm trying to get everything ready for this 10 o'clock service."
"Today? What service?"
"Maundy Thursday, dude. You're on the session, you approved it," came his snarky reply.
"Oh, I forgot. Well, can you spare a minute to help me?"
Shube, ever the faithful friend, said he could and I explained my mission. We had some laughs about junkin' and the possible foibles of such behavior. After sticking the box spring in the back of his Honda Element we headed started down Broad Street.
"No problem," he said.
"Is there anything wrong with that mattress?" I asked.
"No."
"Can I have it?"
"Yeah. You can take the box spring, too."
"That's OK. I don't have any way to haul it, but I think I can carry the mattress on my back." (I was hoping he would offer to deliver them, what, with a van and two pickups in the drive.)
When no offer came, I hopped down the steps and back to the curb. Hoisted the mattress to my back and hustled off. Really, I almost jogged for a few yards, but the damned thing was so springy that it started bouncing and flopping like bird's wings, so I slowed to a hasty walking pace. Then I slowed to a normal walking pace. After a couple blocks I slowed to a stop to take a breather and give my aching arms a rest.
When finally I made it back to my apartment I paused for another breather, then called my buddy Shubie at my church down the street.
"Are ya busy," I asked.
"Yeah, I'm trying to get everything ready for this 10 o'clock service."
"Today? What service?"
"Maundy Thursday, dude. You're on the session, you approved it," came his snarky reply.
"Oh, I forgot. Well, can you spare a minute to help me?"
Shube, ever the faithful friend, said he could and I explained my mission. We had some laughs about junkin' and the possible foibles of such behavior. After sticking the box spring in the back of his Honda Element we headed started down Broad Street.
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| Yikes! Books in the trash. |
"Wait, turn left here," I exclaimed as we approached Sanborn Street. "There's a nice chair on Cherry Street (make that Chairy Street?).
We detoured and I checked out the chair. One small stain on the seat cushion — and a dried cranberry or cherry that was easily flicked off. Dibs! Into the Element it went and we were on our way.
Great day for a street scavenger.
Today's Stats
Temp: 38 degrees F
Distance: 4.5 miles
Treasure: 1 twin mattress and box spring; 1 blue rocker-recliner; 1 toy shark-car; 1 Easter bucket.
iPod Playlist (shuffle)
She Collected - Joe Ely
Do You Want to Know a Secret? - The Beatles
Love Over Gold (live) - Dire Straits
Groaning the Blues - Eric Clapton
Check It Out - John Mellencamp
A Great Day for Freedom - Pink Floyd
The Woman He Loves - Alabama
Untitled (live) - Garth Brooks
The Ostritch - Steppenwolf
The Scientist - Coldplay
I'm An April Fool - Ronnie Lane
Yer Blues - The Beatles
Don't Let Him Go - REO Speedwagon
Railroad Bill - John Jackson
Hold On Loosely - .38 Special
Media Vita In Morte Sumus - Gregorian Chants by Monks
We detoured and I checked out the chair. One small stain on the seat cushion — and a dried cranberry or cherry that was easily flicked off. Dibs! Into the Element it went and we were on our way.
Great day for a street scavenger.
Today's Stats
Temp: 38 degrees F
Distance: 4.5 miles
Treasure: 1 twin mattress and box spring; 1 blue rocker-recliner; 1 toy shark-car; 1 Easter bucket.
iPod Playlist (shuffle)
She Collected - Joe Ely
Do You Want to Know a Secret? - The Beatles
Love Over Gold (live) - Dire Straits
Groaning the Blues - Eric Clapton
Check It Out - John Mellencamp
A Great Day for Freedom - Pink Floyd
The Woman He Loves - Alabama
Untitled (live) - Garth Brooks
The Ostritch - Steppenwolf
The Scientist - Coldplay
I'm An April Fool - Ronnie Lane
Yer Blues - The Beatles
Don't Let Him Go - REO Speedwagon
Railroad Bill - John Jackson
Hold On Loosely - .38 Special
Media Vita In Morte Sumus - Gregorian Chants by Monks
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