Talkin' Trash

Everyday, well, almost everyday, a new letter appears in the Tulsa World Opinion page bitching about the recent proposed changes in the City of Tulsa trash service. The trouble started months ago when the good citizens of River City were told that they would no longer receive twice a week pickups, but once a week only. And if that weren’t bad enough, they’re personal beat up, small, and flimsy trash cans would be replaced at no charge by large modern plastic models, complete with wheels for easy pushing, and an attached, animal proof lid. You would have thought the city ordered all churches closed and the schools to start teaching evolution. What a stink! Tulsa loves their trash cans.

I’m reminded of an article by the late advice columnist Ann Landers on the correct way to hang toilet paper, loose end flat against the wall or protruding over the roll. Landers said it was the most letters she had ever received on one column. Why? Because everyone uses toilet paper and has an opinion on it. Apparently it’s the same thing with trash.

A bit of personal background on the subject: I lived in Tulsa under the present trashy conditions. Twice a week trash removal was nice, there’s that, but I can’t tell you how many times high winds pushed my empty can over, rolled it down the block, and out in the street where drivers cussed the thankfully unknown owner. Naturally the damage from banging it’s way down 7th street took its toll over the years causing the lid to fit improperly, making the roast beef leftovers highly tempting to wandering mongrel dogs. Result? Trash, your trash, in the neighbors yard and, if it happened to be raining, floating down the gutters like little rafts on a river.

Then we moved. Now we had a private trash hauler and the dreaded once a week pickup. Oh My Gawd, it was the end of the world as I knew it. But the nice man in the big truck brought me a brand new container. It was HUGE. I could stuff a week, maybe two weeks worth of normal trash in this behemoth, effortlessly roll it to the curb, and forget about it. High winds couldn’t budge it. Packs of wolves couldn’t raid it. (Not sure about bears though). The big boy roller wheels made it a snap to move, no matter how many empty beer bottles it held. (No, I don’t recycle glass. So sue me.)

So why are the denizens of Tulsa Town in such a tizzy? Change. People hate change and fear of the unknown. My advise is to go with it folks. The smell is in the wind and you can’t stop it. One way or the other, on a designated morning in the near future, your used kitty litter will disappear just as it always has. Of course you might have to consider getting rid of cat or two, the volume of the waste and all that. But your husband will thank you. Trust me.