Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Saturday, December 27, 2003

after xmas trash

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It's fortunate, and rare, when trash day's the day after xmas. Many exotic, twinkly surprises await the trash picker.

Most of it's wrappers and used alcohol containers, of course. But, occasionally, even they are worthy of rescue. Interesting ribbons, ornaments, etc. I found a nice wine bottle yesterday: nothing outstanding; it was only Gallo. But it's reasonably large, without looking like a wino's jug, and it has a fine cork. I washed it and have it drying upside down in the ring of a stove burner now. I'll use it to store beans or rice, or even small pasta. Quite attractive.

My trip this year gave me food. That almost never happens in the war zone; people there tend not to waste food and, if an accident does happen, it's generally fed to a dog or a chicken. Anything that resembled food which one finds in the trash there must be avoided, generally. The exception is greedy slumlords, who throw out vast quantities of canned goods and other well-wrapped nonperishables. They're too lazy, usually, to set them outside the dumpster, and way too selfish to offer them to the needy. But slumlords seldom live in the war zone; their behavior is not normal.

Up on Silver Street yesterday, I found nearly 20 lbs. of potatoes, still in their sacks. They were idahos, fit for baking and white potatoes, great for soups and mashing. There was nothing wrong with either bag of potatoes: no marks, no shrivelling, not even sprouting eyes. I will store them as I found them. When I need to use some, I will soak them, momentarily, in lightly-bleached water to disinfect them. Then, I'll simply rinse them, rub them, pat them dry and use them.

I also found three tangerines, still in their bag, in perfect condition. I love tangerines, and was sorry I didn't have any for xmas. I'll bleach them, too, right before use.

I found 2 new loaves of some earthy, whole-wheat bread. They're from a commercial bakery that's trying to appeal to "health conscious consumers." I make up stories about what I find. I made up the story that Mom came to visit and brought the bread, trying to help her savage, hippy children out, but that the brand of bread was too politically incorrect for the ungrateful heathens. And, rather than putting it in the alley for the homeless or putting it in the compost pile, they just chucked it in the garbage!

I removed the bread from the outer bag, which I washed. One loaf is out for sandwiches; the other is in the freezer, for toast, later.

I found two very remarkable things.

Both were in boxes from the local alternative to Starbucks. One contained cinnamon rolls. But these were made of flakey pastry, jelly rolled with chocolate chips! I estimate they cost around two dollars each. There were about eight of them, carefully sealed in ziplock bags, inside the box. Half are frozen; half are sitting out.

The other I don't know how to describe. They are like huge drop biscuits, a little lumpy and stiff in the crust, but moist and airy inside. But they're made with a shredded, cheddar-like cheese melted on top and small dices of it inside. They have bits of diced, green hot chilis, possibly jalepeno. And each has one fairly large hunk of tomatoe, baked somewhere inside. The unwrapped ones became dog food; Porkchop loves them. And, my one cat who loves carbs eats small bits, too. The ones in zippy bags are mine.

I also found shampoos, conditioners, bubble baths, rolls of toilet paper and soaps from someone's move out. In that same trash, I also found a bottle each of: soy sauce, barbeque sauce, squeezable mustard and a brand new, large bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's pancake syrup. Good thing; I was starting to run out!

I found an enormous wok, with burner ring stand and aluminum lid. These had been badly abused and neglected by someone who obviously didn't know how to care for them. I scrubbed grease from all of them. I scrubbed rust from the wok. I massaged it with oil, set it on its ring, and seasoned it, over and over again, until the bottom was well blackened and all the residual rust was wiped out with excess oil. It has wooden handles, is well constructed and is large enough to hold an entire chicken.

Last week, I'd seen a large soup pot, sitting on its side, in front of an apartment. I thought, perhaps they're draining it and will bring it in later. So I left it be.

This week, it was still there. It's obvious the apartment's vacant. I took the pot. I soaked it in boiling hot dish water with bleach. It holds five gallons or more.

I now have three large soup pots, in graduated sizes. This last is the largest. They're very useful for baling emergencies, leaky rooves, doing hand laundry or boiling something nasty on the stove. They're great for mixing up a batch of pet food, shampoo, soap,, plaster of paris, paper mache....they're very useful for a number of things besides soup. I'd lost my old one, back in the war zone; I've missed it; it's hard to get things done without it. So, I'm very happy now to have three.

I also found a pair of Nike airs in my size. I would never buy them, given their labor practices and all the hype associated with their faddishness. But they'll make good walking shoes, once I've washed them.

I found an inflatable mattress, which I can use on the twin futon frame I found last month, to lay out in the yard on warm nights.

I found a black bed sheet. I found a canvass tarp which I'm using to cover up where the homeless guy's blankets are stashed.

I spent the day today, arranging my tiny kitchen to accomodate the large pots. I arranged things more to my convenience, while I was at it.

I also put up all my xmas decorations. I don't like xmas stuff after xmas. Beating a dead horse, as my father called it.

It absolutely amazes me what people waste!

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