It's "Trash Can Pickup Day" in Norfolk!

Really. It is "Trash-Can-PICK-UP-Day" in Norfolk Virginia!

It's also National Irony Day. Did you know THAT?

A big, heavy, green, plastic lidded trash can on wheels... nearly as big as me... the kind a truck picks up from the curbside with big robot pincers and dumps your crap into its top-hole and drives on to the next can. That's what I have at FUTURES.

I drilled it to take a bicycle lock. This way I have no hassles with vandals or trash divers who like to leave it dumped all over the ground. I've had the thing since 1993. I use it for my trash, plant clippings, tossing last night's litter, and when it's closed, as a spray painting and cleaning stand. My address is painted on it, also. I've noticed it's been cracking from the violent pincer life. Still, it is mine... and I need it.

On trash day, I unlock it and walk it to the corner and across the pedestrian brick way to the opposite side of the street, where the trash guys need it positioned for their pincering. If I'm not busy and I hear them coming, I'll stand outside and wait, wave, thank them, and roll my can back over to FUTURES after their dump. If I put out dead florescent light tubes, they go in the can and, wearing goggles, I smack each with a wrench to explode them so it's a non-issue. Kids are dumb and WILL do it if you don't - not knowing how vacuum tubes implode or what inhalation dangers exist with an opened light tube... Bad internal chemicals.

So, I have this relationship between my business and that CAN, as well as the neighborhood and the people who live or wander through here... and the trash men, of course.

Today, after trash pick up, it was stolen. That's right. My TRASH CAN. Fifteen years old and cracked. STOLEN. Broad daylight. Oh yes, I WALKED the neighborhood looking for it, you can bet! But, It had been rolled further away than I could find on foot.

THIS is what I needed to do with my day?! - make calls to an office somewhere in the city system and say "My can was stolen. I need my can?!" I opened the blue pages of the phone book, called the "Gov", and miracle of miracles, got the correct office AND the correct man:

"Darnell" said "Oh wow! STOLEN? Your TRASH can?"

Ronn said "Yeh."

We talked about neighborhoods in the city.

Darnell said "I'll get a new can to you in 7-10 working days."

Ronn said "And in the meantime?"

Darnell said "You call, we'll pick anything up from you."

Ronn said "Wow, that's cool! You've been a big help, Darnell. Thanks!"

Darnell said "No problem." He took my information, and that was that. Darnell rocks, but there was no "irony" about our interactions. Here's the Irony:

I was up early (that's not ironic, it's just weird) and went in to my shop by 9:30 a.m.. FUTURES was in pieces from the removal and delivery of the big, beautiful, streamlined desk I sold last night. (Which I am now FEELING - since it had to get up three floors of narrow stairwell in an old restored 1914 apartment building last night.) (Ah, indeed... La Glow and Glamour of Chez Profession!)

But when I pulled up, what did I see out front of FUTURES? My sidewalk sign and both of my outdoor chairs! That's right. In the midst of the desk jockeying yesterday, I absent-mindedly left all of them out there OVERNIGHT. But... nothing was stolen! I pulled up... saw it all... and alone in my car I said out loud "You IDIOT!"... then sighed with relief...

(Trust me, I'm building to some shattering irony just like in a 19th century British novel!)

Well, I had to get the shop in order again, but it was also waiting for me to unload (UGH, my lower back!) a great Art Deco overstuffed chair intended for a freshly created front show window. I figured this solo act was going to take some risky lower back-work, when just then I saw "Jim" (who helped install my new store A/C last year), and since I couldn't do it alone (safely), I asked him if he could help, and he could. Whew! In the process, we chatted, and with my sign-and-chairs brain-fart still partially stinking the inside my head, I told him what I'd done.

"Yeh, you'd think someone WOULD'VE stolen 'em," he mused. "Hey, you need help with your trash can?"

"Nah, I'm good", I replied as I grabbed it and began rolling it to the corner. I looked back and added "Sometimes I'm surprised my old trash can isn't stolen, considering some of the fools who seem to live around here!"