Copiously Profuse Trash Talk

Fellow citizens, I come before you at this time to bring to light a problem that we all face. In your mind's eye, I want you to envision being at home and relaxing in your favorite chair. You can hear the screeching of tires as a large, burdened truck halts to retrieve yet another of its intended loads. From the comfort of your living room, you can hear the thudding made upon impact of the weighted canister as it is mechanically put back in its original resting place after expelling the contents it had harbored internally for the past seven calendar days. The relief felt by this object can only be imagined, but if it were bequeathed vital animation thereby granting it the gift of speech, it may attempt to burden any listener within earshot of the daily sacrifice it makes as it slowly fills to capacity and sometimes beyond. I fear it might complain profusely at its abusers who have no gratitude for something that tirelessly performs through; rain, snow, sleet and hail and does so at a consistent rate of success. 

How can something so extremely essential be overlooked as though it didn’t exist? How could anyone manage without the help of that noble round (sometimes square) container that honorably stands guard beside every home in nearly every nation? Even when it’s lid goes missing, does it cry? Complain? Take a day off to find said lid? Reprimand the child who stole that piece of itself in order to take a joy ride down a snow blanketed hill? Emphatically, NO! It does not! 

To the owners who carelessly leave them too close to the roadside - You know who you are! - or even on the road, do these staunch vessels cry to be helped from impending danger? Act like the pitiable victim they rightfully are in that moment? No! They remain true to their purpose. Their keen ability to remain unprovoked - even when under the duress of reckless drivers who thoughtlessly plunge into their side bodies leaving unrecoverable scars that could tell the story of their plight and point a finger towards the assailant if anyone cared enough to hear - should inspire us all. Like the Queen’s Guard they continue to serve as if no interruption ever occurred. Such valor they possess.

Its verified enemy, the North Wind, which carries such ferocious gusts as to catch it off guard forcing it into unexpected submission by toppling it sideways, and spilling its rancid guts for all to see who parade by, but do offer no love for such a disgraced and humiliated thing. The wind passes by without taking notice just as neighbors do. Doesn’t the proverbial phrase ‘borrow a cup of sugar from your neighbor’ imply that spilled rubbish could be graciously placed back into the roadside file bin of the person next door, thereby avoiding humiliation for the already unsung receptacle hero?  

Additional culprits to the North Wind, careless drivers and thoughtless neighbors would be children. They are so rough as they exert seemingly strained efforts to transport this vessel to and from its home place.  Often they drag it in a most undignified manner resulting in scrapes and dings which do mar the outward appearance, and inflict embarrassment.  What do parents hope to gain by forcing their offspring to handle a task that is  -- from the child’s perspective -- well beyond the realm of their skill set and wholly unfair? Do they not know that children are in direct correlation with the life span of these portable compartments? The life expectancy is reduced by up to half when tiny humans are permitted or coerced to make the trek from house to street and street to house with it. It’s as if adults think they’re expendable and easy to come by. The outright nerve.  

Alas, week after week, season after season, year after year, it proves dependable and unappreciated. On an ordinary and unsuspecting day, the owner decides that its trusty can of refuse has served long enough. With much insult, this owner allows the only entity that could be considered its friend -- based on their weekly interaction for the term of its life, the mechanical arm which does lift it exaltedly each week relieving it of its burdens -- to ultimately relieve it of its purpose too. Such treachery and betrayal astonishes the repository as the beguiling arm lets its once tender grip loosen and then open wide, sending the devoted canister into the depths from which things go but never return.

I say enough! It’s time someone stood up to defend these disparaged martyrs who fight so endlessly for the cause of a litter free world. Today I invite you, nay -- I implore you -- to take action and stand with me! Together we can be Philanthropic Intrepid Trash Avengers (PITA), or Warrior Trash Fighters (WTF), Leaders Opposing Litter (LOL), Protect Maintainable Sacks (PMS), Urns To Idolize (UTI), Love Mangled Asymmetrical Objects (LMAO), Save Trash Drums (STD), or Guard Over All Trash (GOAT). We’ll hold a secret ballot regarding the name by which the world will know our cause at our first meeting. 

Let us liberate these undervalued entities. Let us dedicate ourselves to establishing and protecting the rights of all rubbish bins everywhere! Let no wastebasket feel alone ever again. We will put a stop to garbage pail suffering! 

Our first move will be to relocate persistent parasitic problems such as stray cats, bug infestations and Oscar the Grouch.  Secondly, we will address the abuse received at the hands of minors. Third, we aim to devise a plan that will divert the North Wind’s influence. And Lastly, we will find a way to get government allocated tax dollars -- probably from the education fund. This achievement would be two fold. We will gain money to fuel our worthy ambitions, and the redirected monies will teach those minors to appreciate the valuable resources they do have before they are gone, such as garbage cans. Alone we can do little. Together we can make a difference.