Garbage is garbage?

Or a funny thing happened on the way to the dumpster.

 A few weeks ago the manager of my residence enforced a rule that was in force many months ago but was not being followed:  “Take your garbage to the dumpster, do not put it in the trash containers on each floor.”

 What was the funny thing that happened?  Not only did the unsightly bulging, smelly and bug infested containers disappear but the amount of garbage in the dumpster, normally overflowing ( I wager because of the convenience of the nearby trash containers on each floor), disappeared as well. 

$25 no garbage sign


 What got me about this funny occurrence was that it took a regional manager and his shocking discovery to order the manager to enforce what was clearly the policy of the residence since it began.

I had already taken the flea-bitten lids off two container bins, cigarette burned into ugly displays themselves, and gotten rid of them.  Totally unnecessary at this stage of their life too.

The manager remarked how many of the residents thought it a good idea, with a few hold-outs who complained.  Nothing new there. 

These couch-potatoes, or worse, now have to walk all of 100 feet to dispose of their garbage and trash.  But then again some folks love the insect community so much it is a wonder they don’t just move into the dumpster with them.

Your correspondent on the ground,

R. U. Listening




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The Best Reason To Drink Milk Direct From Cow or Goat

 Get the idea of a woman breast feeding her infant. But, before she can give her milk to the baby she has to squirt her milk into a pitcher which is then heated to 160°. 

 The only reason to pasteurize any milk is if it is known to come from a contaminated source.  Just as hikers and survivalists know to boil water from a stream or pond before drinking. Continue reading

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The $157.78 Lesson

Some lessons in life contain pain, quite a bit. Today I escaped the pain. Learned a valuable lesson this time for keeps. When You Know You Know, an earlier essay I posted was written about certainty, personal certainty and the importance of knowing when one is certain or not.

The 157 dollars and seventy eight cents paid for the release of my car that was towed. Why towed? Simple, I disregarded a signal, a knowing, and the result was a non-optimum solution.

Here’s the picture: it’s late in the evening, It is hot and muggy, I’m in traffic, after a rain storm during rush hours.

I’m almost home after using alternate routes to avoid long lines of cars one behind the other waiting and waiting. I am within three blocks sitting at a red light for three, no, four turns since the lights ahead two blocks are out, due to the storm. Didn’t notice that however until the fourth turn of red as I was sitting in 1st position to go when green. I got so fed up with inching the rest of the way home I took a right through an industrial park whose businesses were closed and parked one block away, but next to one of the buildings. Shouldn’t have done that.

Now, the real goof, with the lesson learned is this: at the red light or just prior, I could have turned right on a street I knew well—had walked several times—then parked on the vacant street and walked three blocks home. Would not have been towed. That’s the lesson. As I recall it now I distinctly rejected doing that because it would have required that half way home, the 3 block solution way, were the train tracks, but two sets only. No trains were traveling nearby and I had crossed those tracks safely many times.

Lesson learned. A valuable lesson learned.


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I was brought up around a guy who several times told me “No one gets off this planet alive.”

Poor fellow, was impotent too.  Seems he blamed it on battle shock, what we modernly call ­­post war syndrome.

I believe he was mouthing someone else’s consideration rather than it being is own true belief or observation.  Too many still do this sort of mindless mimicry simply because it sounds clever or suits the moment of their desire to create an effect.

Continue reading

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Protected: OT Humor – Chapter II

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If there is no past (previous) life, why do people say, “I’m looking for my soul mate”?

How is it that a person can be walking along a street and suddenly turn around and find a friend or acquaintance at a distance looking at them but saying nothing?

In what way as it has been reported in historical records that in dueling, the victor has felt the “ghost” of the victim run up the arm of his rapier or haunt him for months until reparation to the dead man’s family is made for killing him?

In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliette, Romeo declares to his cronies just after Tybalt has pierced Mecurio with a sword, “Mercurio is but a few feet above our heads,” and proceeds to use this a championing call for immediate revenge.

How can one person say to another: “Be me for a minute, and see how it feels.” Bodies don’t be other bodies.

Do we discount “gravity” because we don’t see it?

Do we stop breathing air because we don’t see it? And,

Do we ignore electricity because we can only see the effect it creates exposed to air?

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Dishes and Laundry

It seems impossible now that I look at it, that during formative years, every other day of the week I and my brother Mike would slave over washing and drying the dinner dishes and tableware. For five usually six persons.  Sister and my oldest brother would fill in between days.

Mike and I would inevitably have a contest to see who would finish first.  That got to be quite heated many times.  Not to mention how hot it got in the tiny kitchen during the summer.

Continue reading

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I have found amongst the monotony of life several areas of interest which have provided me respite of monotonous existence.

One of them is writing. Another is the game of tennis. Another still is the study of the behavior of the human spirit.

With skyrocketing paroxysms of ecstasy, I write about what is most visible to myself: human beings engaged in being lost in wonderland, i.e. wonderland this life. Lost with no or little understanding of who they really are or who they really have been.

When I was two, I looked around my environment, New York City and knew that I had been here before.

That thought re-occurred to me again many times before I put it on the shelf. About thirty years later in a counseling session devoted to confessions of misdeeds I came upon the exact place where I had “been before” in that city. But long before that occurred I knew who I was and partially who I had been in recent times.

When I was nine I picked up a book containing the classic stories of Edgar Allan Poe, read them voraciously and felt a kinship almost immediately. I was not E.A. Poe. But I lived during the days he lived and many other days of many other famous and infamous persons. It has always amazed me occasionally, and amused me always, that people don’t get two things: one, that to enjoy a great or even semi-great piece of music, they must to some degree have performed or be capable of performing in a similar fashion. Two, that people and times of the past are not interesting only because “their ancestors” lived then, but that they lived then, and probably in many cases as their ancestors!

The mechanism of forgetting our past existences appears to be on several accounts judicious and beneficial to humans. For starters, it takes a heavy load off one to not have all that extra material hanging around in the present life to get in the way, or so it would seem. Secondly it is a convenient way to gloss over a lot of pain, pain from the loss of many times a cherished object, viz. a warm body and the failure to keep it alive, more often. Thirdly, our memories seem to also be shut off through an installed “forgetter mechanism” which in itself isn’t very robust, but does accentuate and in a way compliment our own agreeable solution to numbers one and two.

I mentioned just earlier ancestors who may have been current lifetime individuals, not necessarily having the same mother / father, sister / brother, husband / wife relationship but related none the less.

Blue bloods have that trait in common. Cleverly disguised as a genetic phenomenon, when in fact it is a case of transmigration, but not in all cases.

Even more phenomenal is the occurrence of people knowing the meaning of words without ever looking them up in a dictionary. You know, words like: OBSERVE, CALCULATE, SLIME, SURVEY, MOMENT.

Written orignally as Monotony To Monotony: March 19, 2013
PS. What is most important to me about the reality of past lives is not Who we might have been, but What skills and knowledge lay buried with those past lives that can be recovered for exploiting them in the future!

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Are you an artist, painter, musician, dancer, writer?

Then you are at once a colleague in Aesthetics and I would like to hear from you, find out what you are working on and what you have produced. Chances are I’ll promote it in one or more of my blogs.

I’m finishing my 3rd poetry book entitled Poetry Even Your Mother Would Approve

PEYMWA 96 dpi

It will be the final in the set beginning with Poetry My Mother Would’ve Approved,
followed by Poetry My Mother Would Not Have Approved.

Are you selling your work is my other inquiry.

And my final question is, how do you promote your work? Word of mouth, Google/Facebook/Reverbnation/Amazon etc, product specific magazines, flyers, radio/TV, business cards?


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