We Want What He Has....

The dog walker's dogs broke ranks just a little when Ozzie went by with his stick, but they were soon marching forward again as one. I'm not sure what they are supposed to do if they feel the call of nature, which is presumably part of the reason for the walk. One little fellow tried, but wasn't fast enough and couldn't perform on three legs on the run, so he gave up on the idea....

We have three different garbage trucks (for garbage, recycling and "green" waste--leaves, garden clippings, compost,etc.) that toil up and down our street (after we have toiled up and down our driveway with three bins) The trucks are like very large dinosaurs, shooting out a hydraulic lift which raises the bin from its spot at the street and dumps it into the open maw of the back of the truck. The driver never leaves the truck or lifts the heavy bin. The truck itself makes an ungodly noise as it chews threw each new offering and toils on up the road. Everyone on this street has a driveway and a garage.

In Berkeley, most of the houses were built before the advent of the automobile. We had one of the few houses on the block with a driveway. The garage was an afterthought, incapable of housing much more than a Model T or in our case, tools and junk. The street was so narrow, with cars parked solidly on each side, that it took three men to do the job--one to ease the dinosaur truck down the street, and two to leap off the back of the truck, extract the bins from behind the parked cars and dump them into the maw of the truck. The street was effectively blocked by each truck while this ballet was being performed.

A giant truck on a street not really designed for cars seems like a reverse evolution. Or at least not a very elegant solution.

Why, you might well ask, am I writing about garbage trucks. Well, we were talking with Dana about an assignment one of the boys had in an English class to "describe a setting". I decided to have a shot at an unlikely one.