I had amazing experiences with TRASH this week.
I turned to the computer, to help sort through my altered mental state and stumbled on a link to some amazing, thought provoking Art. http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php?id=?view=XXX_09NNN/ The link didn't address the emotions which had me seeking, but I felt my mind further altered by exposure to someone else's vision. The pictures, concepts and thoughts are too good to not share. My exciting experience was more local. I learned some new stuff, about West Philly, and found myself humbled within the context of sensory overload. Since some of the info could be of value to others on these lists, I'm sharing my tale of Wednesday morning. I sold a property. A basement that had not been emptied for the current owner (and possibly through a series of former owners) needed to be cleared. The new Buyer was firm about this point, an oft ignored standard in most sale contracts. The contents of the basement were lifted to the alley. 'Good' stuff was segregated from the 'bad' in hopes that individuals would carry things, that could be reused, away. Less was taken than I'd hoped. Normally, I'd throw things in my van, and take them to the FREE "Citizen's" Dump at 51st and Lindbergh. (Follow 49th around the curve to the Southwest, make a left on 51st, enter the driveway on the left, pause at the gate to be signed in, and than unload as directed. Usually this means, appliances and larger furniture to the left and the balance in either the row of dumpsters on the right, or in an idling trash truck straight ahead.) Since my pile was huge, I located a private hauler to carry the remainder away. And since I'd had no direct experience of this contractor as a hauler, and did not want to be linked to any "short dumping" I arranged to accompany the hauler to the dump. I felt sassy and tough in the passenger seat of the overloaded pick up truck. We road to a dump, not formerly known to me, on 58th, near Woodland. The long entry drive seemed a normal 2 lanes wide, until the first huge container truck squeezed by on the left. Things tightened down even further when we arrived at the line for the scale, sandwiched between enormous trash hauling trucks with a mountain of trash on the right and huge vehicles moving past on the left. "10 miles per hour" seems incredibly fast when the pick up truck that felt so sturdy, just a moment before, was suddenly scaled down to the carapace of a water bug, in the vicinity of my son's size 16 shoes. I felt like Alice after the pill, shrinking in a world of noise, heat, odor and danger. I felt a glimmer of the excitement that two-year olds exhibit when the point out "Car!", "Truck!", "Go!", "Up!", "Go!". Once in the queue, things unfold like a magic act. Glimpses of monster machines shifted between the openings created as trucks change positions. Our truck was weighed and hard hats dispensed to us. A signal man, in safety gear, was choreographing the placement of massive vehicles. We were directed to a roofed structure, with an open side and told to back in between two "dump" trucks, both larger than the municipal hauling trucks that pick up from our home. Along the back wall, the largest crane I've ever seen was systematically scooping up piles of trash and moving them into shipping containers. At one point a queen sized box spring dangled from one of its iron jaw, with less significance than a bit of spinach caught in a smile. Our truck was not mechanized and we had to get out and unload the items by hand, as dump trucks spewed their loads to either side and the crane swung close by and a bull dozer made passes down each side, between dumps, to pile things highest near the crane, and to keep the dump areas clean for the incoming trash haulers. Since we were hand loading, giant trucks came and went on both sides while we scurried about our task. Our hard hats seemed like costumes and as silly defiance against the potential risks of even the smallest screw-up. I was shot through with adrenalin by the time our truck was empty, and as we exited, saw bull dozers and cranes riding across the tops of mesas of trash. To exit, we wove through incoming behemoths, onto the exit scale. The minimum charge is $65.00 for the service and our bill totalled $70.00. I can't even guess at the summed weight of items piled 5' high on the truck (and including water logged bags of plaster, and contractors bags full of masonry dust) that was removed for $5.00. So, now you know what to do, if you need to empty a basement. And, if you are out of shape (like me) or don't have an appropriate vehicle for the hauling, start by calling Roosevelt Wright, who charged me only $100.00 + dump fee, for 2 hours. He provided the truck and did all of the heavy lifting and knew where to go and what to do. Mr. Wright can be reached at 215-828-1181. If you have a kid who would 'get' the thrill of such an adventure, I recommend you take him or her along for the ride (but do not let them out of the vehicle). It was much more cool than watching planes land at the airport. All the best! Liz Elizabeth Campion Cell Phone: 215-880-2930 215-546-0550 Main, -546-9871 fax, Desk + VM: 215-790-5653 PRUDENTIAL, FOX & ROACH REALTORS, LLC Please read Consumer Notice & enjoy "HOME PILOT" tools at www.PruFoxRoach.com
