“By their garbage shall ye know them.”
Jesus said that by their fruits shall you know them, but I think that may be one of the great mistranslations of scripture. It’s what comprises our trash cans that give us away and tell the story of our lives.
Right now, in our garbage, you will find: 3 television packing boxes, cartons for a blender, a hair dryer, a coffee maker, an electric wok and a juicer. From this, you can easily deduce that many of our appliances conspired to crap out on us simultaneously (as they are highly prone to doing — anybody else noticed this peculiar phenomenon?) and they must be our most needed ones because they were replaced immediately if not sooner. Obviously, we are couch potatoes who like constant amusement easily convenient in any room, frozen cocktails, perfect coiffures, caffeine and Asian cuisine who happen to have a health nut living with us who wants everything all natural. We sound like a damn fun crowd, if you ask me. Even our health nut – especially when her juices are spiked with vodka.
There are numerous cartons from a national moving company. As all our neighbors know, we’ve been living here for years and will be continuing to do so for a good many more, so clearly somebody new has joined us.
You’ll also see the box in which a 22-quart tamale pot came. For a woman named Foster? Not likely. Aha! One or more of the new arrivals must be Latin. Ole! – and pass the frijoles.
Then your gaze will rest on the remarkable collection of beverage bottles awaiting the sanitation truck. Hornsby. Heineken. Blue Moon. Saranac. Samuel Adams. And an assortment of wine cooler bottles as well. Elementary, my dear Watson! There are some young people on the premises who have just passed the legal drinking age, male AND female, and are taking advantage of it.
See? I don’t need to write this blog. You just need to read my garbage!
–phoebe kate