A few months ago, I noticed a bit of a ruckus in the alleyway that our kitchen window overlooks. I looked out just in time to see a fellow dragging a retail display case for record albums from the back of a pickup filled with other such storefront paraphernalia and shoving it near the recycling and garbage bins along the low east wall of the alley. As quick as a thought, I had sussed out the sitch: this fellow, likely the recent new tenant of a retail space, was clearing out the old fixtures by driving around and dropping them in various alleys, effectively making them someone else's problem and avoiding dumping fees. Unfortunately, it took me a bit longer than a thought to get down the stairs and outside, and the mooching malefactor was gone before I could confront him.
So, I at least organized the pressboard cabinet into the row of bins, using it to store the glass recycling boxes. I knew that the case would become an attractive nuisance and that someday I would have deal decisively with it, but I would need a cordless power screwdriver or a sledgehammer, either of which I would have to borrow. So, until I was willing to tackle the project, I just acted in my usual role of Alleyway Marshal and kept it as tidy as I could, a task that grew more difficult once our friendly neighborhood schizophrenic saw the rack's potential as a trash-sorting station. And that's how the situation has stood over the winter.
God bless America, the rack is gone, baby, gone. Our great neighbor Jules took it upon herself, as a personal gift to me, to take her Black & Decker out there, dismantle the whole shebang, and toss it in the dumpster. She even documented it all on her 29-Day Giving Challenge page. Brava, Jules! You have my thanks!
And that, my friends, is community organizing.
Nu, just to leave us in a good mood on a Sunday evening, here is a lyrical little video trip around a sushi restaurant, on the conveyor:
Simply beautiful, and a peaceful way to end the weekend.