We live in the wealthiest country n the history of the world as measured by the availability and affordability of everything from those things necessary to sustain life to those things that add some spice to life. A wise elder looking into my future once told me with a puzzled tone in his voice that in additions to those things things necessary, I would always have access to those things that make life pleasant.
Years later in a dumpster it hit me what he saw. Times were lean. My wife had mentioned that if we could spare it in the budget, our oldest would like a Razor scooter for Christmas. This was before such became ubiquitous. I hadn't yet seen one, but she described it to me. Within a day or two I was rooting around in a dumpster of a chain drugstore, and found what later proved to be the handle of a scooter. It wasn't Razor brand but a fair copy. I puzzled over it, having found several semi-broken Ab-slide tummy
exercisers recently, but this handle was different. I searched around for more parts and found the basic deck part. Aluminum is always worth money so would have grabbed it regardless of what it actually was supposed to be. My native curiosity dictated that I figure out how it worked. I figured out how it unfolds and with dawning recognition I realized I had the basic parts for a scooter.
With glee I sorted the entire dumpster bag for bag, and retrieved every piece that could possible be related to the scooter. Seated comfortably on a bag of trash, I worked out what went where by the light of my dive light. When I emerged from the dumpster 15 minute later I had a fully assembled version that was short only one nut that apparently was left off or lost in the manufacturing or packaging process. This scooter was returned most likely because without the nut, you can;t tighten the handle height. For less than 15 cents at a bolt counter at ACE hardware, I had a scooter.
We were easily the poorest people in our affluent neighborhood, but pleased as I was with the find I couldn't wait for Christmas so I proudly presented my son with the first scooter on the block. The other kids, whose parents had no doubt already purchased them that season's hot selling toy had to wait till Christmas. The envious kids raised in a consumerist society extracted their petty revenge Christmas morning when they decided that my son's off-brand was inferior to their off-brand. None of them had genuine Razor brand, but they decided the color of the urethane wheels denoted quality.
A week later work took me a dozen miles south of me and I was feeling brave and up for some diving in broad daylight.
A word about that. My wife describes my actions when I do this as showing aplomb when in polite company, and a little more colorfully when we are giggling together about a more adventurous snatch. It is interesting that in some ways it is 'safer' diving in broad daylight because people see what they want to see. Divers are invisible. If you look neat and drive a reasonable vehicle, people assume you are looking for boxes or maybe responsibly throwing away the detritus of a fast food lunch.
In such a mode, I loath to pass up a dumpster by what I think of as the most wasteful chain in the country. I have often wondered if I should short-sell stocks based on the costs of the waste I can quantify in a dumpster, but in our consumer driven society it is unlikely to work. The "turn" is everything in retail. How fast they can empty a square foot of store and refill it again dictates gross sales, which seems to matter more than actual profits. These thoughts run through my head as I stalk a dumpster, feeling the rhythm of the employees, timing my approach to provide the maximum uninterrupted privacy. As I cased the place, an employee came out and threw some items in the trash. She paused and gazed into the dumpster a while as if lost in thought. This is a good sign. If something is in that dumpster that gives an employee who is PAID to waste things cause to stare, and its not a dead body, it is definitely worth a look. I hopped and skipped over as soon as she went back inside and saw I was going to need to pull my vehicle next to the dumpster to screen as I dove. Turned out that there were no less than SEVEN scooters in the dumpster, new in the box, but now that Christmas was over, they were making room apparently. Two of them were Razor brand with ruby red transparent urethane wheels. By the peak of the season those were priced at $110 each.
My son then had the scooter that was the envy of th neighborhood. The second one, my wife got some exercise on it to the wonder and delight of the small kids in the neighborhood about a MOM on a scooter.
We came to know that with attention paid to where a dumpster was located and its uniquer habits including seasonal and time of the month characteristics, I could find with a certain degree of reliability anything.
I consider myself to be a person of faith, not so much religious (although I attend church regularly) but more superstitious and inclined to assign other-worldly explanations to what may be coincidence or happenstance.
I find an attitude of prayerful gratitude, seems to clear my mind to consider where my needs or even wants might best be met. I often think of people even less fortunate than I, perhaps even kneeling in supplication for the help they need.
I was in very "Greenie" infested Eugene Oregon once. The very same paper that was reporting ways to reduce your waste stream by such things as composting had an article about a woman working in the local welfare office being disciplined for her xeroxed tip sheet that she had handed out telling people among other suggestions on budgeting and dollar stretching that people sometimes leave things behind stores like cribs and high chairs, ironing boards, bags of unwanted clothes and the like. I call this neighbor trash. It was good tip. For her to be disciplined for it was nothing short of crazy.
A local homeless shelter here sent men in a truck around to grocery stores to scrounge culls from the produce departments. I am pretty sure that what happened was they were a bit late getting there and were directed to the emptied daily and surprisingly clean dumpsters where within a short while culled produce was placed in the same arguably clean boxes it came from the fields in deposited there. Somebody called the news station that had someone close enough to video this 'disgusting practice' and the shelter was maligned and the homeless probably ate canned veggies instead of fresh fruit that night.
I once saw a homeless man sitting in the gentle rain, his guitar in a scavenged trash bag for protection smoking what was probably a butt scrounged from the ashtray in front of the store.
I assumed anything good in the dumpster was probably already gone. On the one hand I figured he needed it more than I, but I was a little annoyed to have my favorite seemingly private reserve poached upon. My neighbors do not compete with me for the treasure. I checked anyway thinking maybe he left some items because on foot he cant do the volume of scrounging I can. I was SHOCKED to see boxes and boxes of cigars.
I decided then and there that some people cannot be helped. I try anyway, when I have more than I can possible use, I donate to thrift stores and occasionally if it is non-perishable items to a soup kitchen. I expect to find seasonal items AFTER a holiday,but it is amazing what you find BEFORE the event from mistakes in ordering, freight damage, and just plain miscommunication.
I found two cases of cranberry sauce in October once, most of the cans were dented but it is a myth that a dented can is dangerous. As long as the can isn't bulged there is little risk. Even then the risk exists in things like canned meat, not fruit, fruit that goes bad it turns to alchohol.
I found 3 gross (144 units) of Christmas stockings weeks before Christmas, and gave those and bags and bags of found candy to a shelter that helps homeless people with children.
I was able to donate cases of personal items and sundries to a battered women's shelter including 150 bottles of nail polish.
All this is after my needs are more than met time and time again.
We do a lot of shopping on Thursdays at Goodwill when every item with a certain colored tag is $1. On one of those days, I bought a great Saville Row style suit that was hand tailored at a high end hotel in British Hong-Kong. I wore it to church today. I generally eschew diving for manna on the Sabbath, but I make exceptions.
I got it home and laid it out in the driveway. I used some laundry detergent and a stiff brush on the few faint spots, and hosed it off. It cleaned up nice. I kind of wonder if the people that tossed it will see it out to dry as they drive by.
