Anna Monica – Ripples

They are big, they are green and they can be heavy, really heavy if you put a lot of stuff in them. “They” are the big, really big, green trash cans the parish has handed out to us and, even though sometimes I tug and struggle to get mine out of the front gate and to the side of the road, I like them immensely. So much garbage can fit into them! However, sometimes when I am tugging and sweating over one, I regret being single because taking out the garbage just isn’t one of my favorite things. My arms, though, seem to have built up considerable strength. So, ladies, if you want strong arms, you might want to take out the garbage while your hubbies clean the kitchen.

When we were first issued those cans, my sister, Cookie, in LaPlace, had a real drama going on with her new green can as it seemed to have developed a life of its own. On the second day of use, the wheels came off. She contacted the company which brought out another one. Then, that one got smashed right there on the street. She was issued a third and I do believe that so far they (Cookie and the can) have declared a truce.

Those cans hold so much that you could actually grin with wicked satisfaction as you toss into it junk after junk, knowing that soon your junk would no longer be your problem. It makes me wonder, though, how long they will last since they go through so much. Mine has so many scratches and a few indentations which probably occurred when it landed in the ditch (more than once). I, thankfully, having put in culverts, don’t have that problem anymore; now I only have to stand it upright when it has landed horizontally.

I do, though, miss the long-time service of the Trosclairs of Reserve. They were the only garbage collectors we had for most of my life and that was and is a very fine family. The men on the trucks were always very pleasant to wave back at you and sometimes when I had done a bunch of trimming of the never-ending shrubbery in my yard, I would wait for the truck and help them throw in the branches. The workers only laughed when I wasn’t looking.

Speaking of garbage trucks, and after all these years I cannot call them anything else, no matter what is politically correct in this day, there is one thing I deeply miss; I miss the unique sound of the squealing brakes the Trosclair trucks had. At home on Saturday mornings, I usually knew what time it was when the trucks came to a stop. The squeal was unmistakable and familiar. And then, just as now with the new company, the pick-up was always earlier on Saturday than during the week which proves all workers value their weekends and want to finish up early. You remember these things when you want to decide how early or late you can put the can out.

The pick up is much quieter now because all you hear is a “thump” when the mechanical arm has dumped your garbage into the truck. I really like using the big green garbage cans, regardless of how they fight back; if only the trucks had squealing brakes.

ANNA MONICA, a native and resident of Garyville, has her column published each Saturday.