The Transfer Station

I went to the dump today, excuse me, the refuse transfer station in order to transfer the refuse from my parents house to wherever it is that it will end up. This was different from the landfill, er, other transfer stations I have been to over my lifetime. In fact at one point in time it was a great adventure (other then the smell, oh the smell) for a youngster to see all of the things that people would consider trash.

Today's trip was a simple drop off. Old mattress and box springs, rotted out cabinet, a couple of odds and ends, and old aluminum shelving unit. 20 minutes to get there, 2 minutes to empty the truck. That will be $10.25 please. All this for trash. It will be recycled, at least what can be was already being gaffed and taken aside by the workers there. The cabinet, the shelving unit, they went off to the other end of the station. They were the lucky ones. They were the ones who would get to live another day. They still had one of their nine lives left.

The others just end up in the big giant pile. This is the one that the bulldozer come over a scoop up the refuse, bring over to the pile and dump. They have some of those giant earth movers with the waffle stomper wheels that just run over the pile minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day. It is the punishment for the refuse, their last breath crushed out of them in a smelly pit of morass. It is the haves and the have nots. Actually, it is just a big pile of smelly crap.

I'm hoping that there are no metaphors for life in here. I don't want this to be the way that anyone is treated. As an English teacher I must read into what I have just put down. It is the nature of the profession. I think I'm wrong. I think it could be about those of us who get the chance to live again and again. We are able (or allowed) to reinvent ourselves and overcome the challenges that we are presented with. I also think that there are those who are simply thrown into the pile and run over by whatever forces occur. They do not, or have not learned, or never had, the ability to learn how to be part of the other pile. They were not able to conquer the challenges but instead they succumb to the obstacles that they encounter.

My father and I went from the dump, oops, transfer station to the Emergency Food Bank. We had four cases of cookies and a large can of Pork and Beans to donate. I have never been to a food bank before today. It made me think about this parallel between what happens at the transfer station (which really takes on a new meaning when applied to us) and what goes on with those around us. The food bank was busy the entire time we were there. Individuals, couples, families, of all walks of life trying to make sure that this was just a challenge for them not an insurmountable obstacle. It felt good to know that we were able to give something back to help those folks stay out of the transfer station.