An editorial: Stop the damn dumping

I live in a quiet suburban neighborhood covered with towering hardwoods. Through the subdivision runs a small brook. On one side of the creek is a community of about 60 single-family homes, the kind of classic middle-class setting complete with well-behaved children and well-groomed lawns. On the other side is a development of townhomes called “Clover Creek,” which houses many retired faculty from the nearby college.

These condo dwellers — or “condors,” as we on the other side of the creek call them — appear to be a bunch of uncivilized animals. I’m not sure what these former professors taught during their time at university, but I’m thinking it had something to do with the barbarian sack of Rome or perhaps the situational ethics of illegal dumping.

My house is right across the street from the quaint little bridge that leads into the condos. Ever since we’ve lived here, there will be at least one incident a month where one of the “condors” discards a mound of refuse right across from my driveway. This is what’s out there right now …

I have no idea what this junk is or used to be. Behind the large wooden panel looks to be a charred step-ladder (foreground) and a rattan hamper now shredded beyond recognition.

This is plainly against city code. The first time it happened, we called the proper authorities and they came out to post a “no dumping” sign, which was stolen within days of its installation. (The pole holding the sign remained behind but it didn’t turn out to be much of a deterrent).

Ever since, we’ve watched a cavalcade of junk appear. Old sewing machines. A sled. A box fan. A VCR. Sometimes, I’ll go out there myself and drag the offending item back across their precious little bridge. Other times, it’ll sit for weeks until one day it disappears, carried off presumably by scavengers.

Which is what I thought condors were supposed to be. Aren’t they the big ugly birds that feast on the carcasses of dead animals? Why, then, are these condors instead producing rubbish instead of eating it?

Oh, I find ways to exact my measure of revenge. Since they don’t have roll-out garbage bins, they have to carry their household waste to a large dumpster near their entrance. A sign says it’s for the use of condo residents only, but I’ll sneak over there sometimes and throw in a bag of soiled cat litter, just for fun. Once, I even spilled a little in the road.

This only gives me so much satisfaction, however. Usually, I and my family just sit and steam, powerless to stop the unseen elderly who roam the night, hauling old chairs and bedding behind them.

I call on the residents of Clover Creek to stop this irresponsible behavior immediately. There’s a perfectly serviceable city dump somewhere around here where they can drag their antique asses and their beat-up furniture for proper disposal. Rise above your baser instincts and your bestial ways. Quit putting all this crap in front of my house.

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2 Responses to “An editorial: Stop the damn dumping”

  1. LetUsAllUsPlayDominoes Says:

    Another pleasant valley Sun-da- a-aaay…

    Hey now-why diss the entire community of Clover Creek when it might be the same single thoughtless jerk over and over?

    Your comment about the retired profs teaching the situational ethics of illegal dumping reminds me of an ethics professor’s class that my wife took. He thought the room was a tad warm, but the thermostat was in a lockbox, so he pointed the hot bulb of an overhead projector directly onto the thermostat for a few minutes. Problem solved.

    Points for creativity, surely, but ethical? Naaah.

  2. fakename2 Says:

    My neighborhood is a lot like yours, minus the condos. If we were to be faced with that situation, there would be all out-war, involving torches and pitchforks. Here, if your rolling trash can is not removed from the curb within 60 seconds after trash pickup (every Friday), you will be, at minimum, sneered at. Sometimes I leave mine on the curb until Sunday, just as a feeble protest. One of my next-door neighbors once asked me if I realized just how unsightly all those pine cones in my front yard were.

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