Heinz Weverink
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The View from the Dumpster
The View from the Dumpster—No players, no Game As a resident, you are familiar with the recycling program in your community, which for most folks means you know to put the paper in one bin, and plastic, glass, and metal in the other; that, and you know the pickup day. And every community in the country has different rules, different materials they accept, and if the vendor changes, the rules may change. So, you have to keep track of putting the tall glass jar with a lid in the purple bin on Tuesday, and if you don’t have the lid, it goes in the blue bin on Wednesday. Soda bottles are in the green bin, unless they are diet sodas which have to be handled separately via a special pickup, because nobody wants to touch that toxic residue. Then there’s the paper bin, I know that the pizza box is cardboard, and likely so was the pizza, but the bits of cheese that you missed are a problem. Oh, my bad; that was frozen pizza. That box you can put in with the paper. Do whatever you want with flavorless Frisbee that you just baked. Yes, I understand that paint can is steel, but there’s a different number you have to call for that. Really, that vacuum cleaner doesn’t fit in the bin. Take it down the street, and drop it in a clothing recycling bin.
By Heinz Weverink6 years ago in The Swamp
The View from the Dumpster (Pt. 2)
The View from the Dumpster, About Clotilda, and My Original Intent When I started the view from the dumpster blog it was to talk about waste, recycling, and other environmental issues. Lately, some of my posts have dealt with religion, politics, and race relations. I’m sure that many of you were thinking that I’ve bumped my fool head. While it is true that I have bumped my head on more than one occasion, I assure you that there is method to this madness. Really it involves a lot of madness of both types; my anger with the state of the world and the pure madness of the world and those attempting to run it. What is missing is the understanding that all of these subjects are related, when you look at the world and its environment you have to acknowledge the ruling apes and all of their habits and peculiarities, especially when it comes to the relationship with each other and to the rest of the world. Everything that happens on this planet, whether it’s a butterfly farting in the Amazon or the bullshit being tossed around in DC, affects everything else.
By Heinz Weverink6 years ago in The Swamp
Marching in a Different Parade
When I was about eight-years-old, I was still living in Germany. My uncle took me to see a military parade in our town. That was almost 60 years ago. I don’t remember what the occasion was, and it likely doesn’t matter. What I do remember is something that has been with me all of these years. I didn’t know then exactly what all of those machines and men with guns did but I knew that they could hurt you. I remember fear. I remember the absolute fear that those machines instilled in me. I saw massive pieces of iron rolling along. I closed my eyes and could hear the roar of the engines and the gnawing of the cleats, the stomp of the boots. When I opened my eyes, they were still there steadily rolling on in what seemed like an endless line. We left the parade, but I could still hear the sounds of the military might grinding and pounding away. And today, I can still hear them.
By Heinz Weverink8 years ago in Serve
A Little Red Flower
When Dad came back from Viet Nam we were stationed in PA at a now long gone Air Force base (Olmsted closed in 1969). There were many things about him that were different, but it was something that we never discussed. It was about this time that he became a member of the VFW, the Highspire post. In those days the post was very active and had frequent events which we would attend as a family. We were frequent visitors there. It was the normal routine for us on a Sunday afternoon. I went because that’s what my choice was, it was very simple; we were going and that was the end of the discussion. I had become a regular, the bartender knew how to deal with me. I was particular even then. My “Shirley Temple” was always served in a tall frosted glass and never stirred. I would sit there and sip on those and eat Slim Jims, while the grownups sat and drank and talked. They talked quietly, occasionally laughed, but mostly just talked amongst themselves and drank. Old men (compared to me) telling war stories. Reliving the horrors, trying to make sense of it all. The occasional smile and good-natured backslap was the distraction from what those hollow eyes were seeing once again. Most of those events have passed from my memory, but one thing did linger, one very simple thing.
By Heinz Weverink8 years ago in Serve
The View From the Dumpster
We are all aware of the Great Wall of China in terms of its historical significance and its significant size. Rightfully so, the Chinese people are very proud of this structure. Despite its magnificence it has absolutely no impact on those of us who reside in other countries, such as the United States. But there is another wall that the Chinese have put in place, one that most people have not heard of. It is that wall that has an impact on our lives. You likely won’t read about it, unless you follow industry news for waste and recycling.
By Heinz Weverink8 years ago in The Swamp
