My 2020 has gotten off to a bumpy start. I had to go dumpster diving.
For those that do not know, dumpster diving is described as salvaging from large commercial, residential, industrial and construction containers for unused items discarded by their owners, but deemed useful to the picker.
While what I did didn’t fit that definition exactly, the words “dumpster diving” were going through my head as I glared at the eight-yard commercial dumper located at the back of the Standard pondering exactly how I planned to fish something out of there without getting injured or worse. Worse would be trapped in a dumpster filled with unspeakables and screaming for help as I wait for McMinnville Fire Department to rescue me.
Less than an hour earlier, I was at my desk typing Best Wishes into a word document. There were three. When I finished, I absent-mindedly tossed the notes into my personal trashcan. I then made the ill-fated decision to take out the trash. When a fourth Best Wishes request came shortly thereafter, I opened the Word document and glared at a blank page. Not sure where they went or why; I couldn’t figure it out.
Slowly, the realization of what just happened slowly sank in. The Best Wishes were gone. I had tossed my notes into the trash and threw the trash bag into the dumpster. My only recourse was to retrieve my trash.
So, there I am looking at the commercial dumpster trying to figure out the best way to go about the task at hand. Briefly, I considered not rescuing my notes and just accepting the onslought of upset phone calls from families when their Best Wishes request didn’t make the paper. My apologies and explanation repeated over and over. Nope, not going to happen.
I then thought about bringing my boss in on the situation. However, James was out of the office and I figured Pat would stop me in my tracks – rightfully so, given the potential dangers to the Standard’s senior reporter. I might be missed if I’m out on Workman’s Comp with a broken bone. Nope, I’m not telling a soul.
My thoughts then turned to any ingenious way to lift the bag out of the dumpster without getting into it. As I’m looking at the bag, I see the little hoops created when you tie the top together. If I can find something long enough, maybe I can extend over the edge of the dumpster, slip it through the loop, lift it up and hoist it over the edge.
I go back into the Standard looking around for something, anything that might work. I spy a wooden broom with a long handle that might just reach. Within minutes I’m leaning over a rail and attempting to complete the task. Boy, that bag was heavier on the end of a pole. I managed.
Lesson learned: do not throw away my written notes until after Best Wishes runs.
Standard reporter Lisa Hobbs can be reached at 473-2191.