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June 26, 2004 - Subscribe - Contact Us - Rate Card - Place an Ad Valley&State Backpage O&E Sports Archives Classifieds Faith&Beliefs Obituaries Revels April 17, 2004 Pugh's Muse Collecting trash is like clockwork Lance Pugh I was startled awake by the sounds of a large truck braking, immediately realizing that I had forgotten to put out the trash the night before. I dove into my robe and slippers, then darted into the side yard, there, after recovering from a tackle by the compost bin, to wrestle with refuse and recycling, hoping to have it properly presented before the truck passed me by. Things seem heavier early in the morning, so I huffed and grunted as I manhandled the containers towards the street. Having one's refuse placed properly is acquired as a matter of gentle training and an occasional reminder. Locating the containers on the street between properly spaced parked cars is the zenith of compliance, as the emptied vessels are treated like treasured antiques and left upright and exactly as they were, strictly a white glove job. Conversely, should one be so unthinking as to leave the containers behind a gate and not easily at hand, the barrels soon find themselves apparent victims of a cosmic gale, scattered, strewn, mauled and maligned. It doesn't take long to get with the program. I was clearly pleased with myself, as the trash was impeccably positioned, ready for certain collection. As the morning passed I realized that I had missed the pick up and loaded the recycling into the truck and drove down to where I could sort things out myself. It ended up taking me an hour, as I had to learn what when where and in what order. Filled to overflowing with protocol and intent, I drove home. Just as I was about to head into the house, my wife, Annette, floated her voice over the fence: "Today is Thursday; they don't come until Friday." My eyes slithered under their lids, scanning the block for other canned offerings. Mine were the only in sight. Not wanting to appear too eager to please, I lugged the lot back behind the fence until the next day. At least the recycling was settled. Lately I've been finding it hard to get to the gym early in the morning, but it seemed that the next day was an exception. After some stretching and some weights, I began a 20-minute aerobic whirl on a machine that resembled a metal grasshopper. My legs were pumping and my arms flying as I gazed out the window, there to spot in the distance ... a trash truck. Fraught with panic and dread I sprinted to my car and headed home, hopefully to hump the trash out before the truck roared past my house. I made a basic mistake while heading homeward: I took the boulevard, forgetting that construction crews armed with trucks, backhoes, pavement saws and a thousand orange cones were busy turning the street into a strangled and stalled traffic pattern. For some reason, no one was moving and I was trapped for 15 minutes until I managed to turn into an alley, there only to find it blocked by a cement truck. When I finally made it home, I grabbed the cans in a flash and flew them street ward. I was so worked up that what seemed so heavy before was now light as a feather. I moved the truck up a few feet and set the cans out like a fine meal on a placemat, expecting the best treatment for my vessels of debris. Sparkling at a job well-done, I spun toward the house just as my wife commented: "Today's Saturday, I put it out Friday, when they pick it up." Lance was last seen picking up stray rubbish around town, wanting to be ready the next time the trash needs to be taken out. You may hurl debris at him by e-mail at [email protected]. DailyTidings.com Home Page Valley&State | Backpage | O&E | Sports | Archives | Weather | Classifieds Columnists | Faith&Beliefs | Obituaries | Revels | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2004 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Click Here Site Search: .:Advertisements:. RESOURCES - Mail Tribune News - ODOT Road Cams