Back when this township was a bit kinder and a bit gentler, the friendly guys from the road department would come around once yearly to pick-up junk too large for your regular trash. There was always much excitement in the air when the locals rallied for the annual Spring Cleanup.

Somewhere along the line, those in charge of keeping our taxes low (as if that’s even remotely possible in New Jersey) decided that it cost the town too much to have the fellows driving around and gathering Spring Cleanup items. They didn’t cancel the event, they just made it inconvenient by forcing residents to somehow lug the junk over to the disposal site.

Nevertheless, Spring Cleanup remains A Good Thing. This year, I took three Chevy Suburban loads to the Dumpsters parked behind Town Hall. (I should have left the ever-breaking Suburban there and walked home, but that’s another story.)

Too Chilly For Spring Cleanup

The highlight of this year’s gathering of the junk was my encounter with a very beautiful, and very lethargic, garter snake that was hidden under some stuff. It barely moved when I pet its cool scales. I am sure it joins me in wondering why mid-May has been so cold.

Another wildlife-related discovery: A mouse made a home in a pair of Acousti-Phase speakers I’d been storing in the basement. Right before I saw the hole that was gnawed through the front cover, I entertained the idea of putting the speakers for sale on Craigslist. The fact that the speaker had become a mouse apartment killed that idea.

It’s unlikely anybody would have bought the things anyway. I forget where they came from, but one person, writing online, contended they were sold by the infamous Crazy Eddie. He or she also named them as the worst home audio speakers ever sold:

The worst were Acousti Phase sold by Crazy Eddie in NYC back in the 70′s. They would disconnect the tweeters on JBL L100′s or put speaker upside down and then play Acousti Phase with an equalizer hidden away to improve the sound. They sold many of these speakers with Kenwood receivers which they would sell for close to dealers cost. (They made big bucks on the Acousti Phase speakers though)

I don’t know the truth of that story, but another person’s feelings about the speakers convinced me the fancy-sounding units deserved a toss into the Town Hall garbage bin:

I thought my pair were about as bad a speaker as I’ve ever heard. Even padding the tweeter down massively didn’t help. Foam suspensions on the (folded paper) woofer were surprisingly stiff, and that may have been part of the problem, but running in did nothing. Gave them away (with apologies to the recipient).

So good riddance to those mouse-eaten, good-for-nothing relics of the disco era.

The township not only stopped coming around to gather Spring Cleanup items, it also shortened the duration of the service. It used to be Spring Cleanup Week. I have a problem with there now being only three days.

We pack rats need time to gather the strength and courage necessary to throw things away. On each day of Spring Cleanup, that courage builds and more gets tossed. I’m just getting warmed-up by the third day and then, like Haley’s Comet, the Dumpsters disappear. A mouse or a snake, cowering inside some piece of junk that escaped removal, sighs with relief.

I was down the road when the cell rang. “Where are you?” asked the wife. “You need to come home.” Within five minutes, I learned why. An old fellow, reaching for his oxygen while driving, lost control and smashed through our front fence and into our porch. Debris was everywhere. He was OK, the porch didn’t collapse and insurance sent a nice check. I needed to repaint the posts anyway, but who needs that drama?

Elmer runs a pool supplies and tire shop that’s three houses away. He’s got a few old photos hanging on the walls, including a black-and-white shot of my house that appears to have been taken a century ago. Gazing at it makes me happy. The building has endured the harshest of weather, watched horses give way to cars, heard the laughter and cries of innumerable babies.

It’s guys like Elmer who add a lot of character to life around here. His store is a place you can hang-out at for a half-hour. He can tell some stories and he’s pretty quick with the smart-ass come-backs. I’ve been living here 20 years but old-timers like Elmer make me feel like the new kid on the block. But he knows my by my first name and he’s ready to bust my chops whenever I walk in the door.

I like that in a proprietor.