Dear Wally 74

Dear Wally #74 (Why don’t we do it in the road?)
Oh Wally:
Who do I call about an appliance (something white and ugly) that was dumped on the side of the road? It’s an eyesore against the lush, knee-high, sweet corn and I don’t want to have to pick up (and pay for) someone else’s crap.
Signed, Frustrated.

Dear Frustrated:
I know I know! I feel like I’ve received quite a few angry letters over the years on this subject. Obviously they are not BSP readers or they would have heeded my patronizing lecture series on littering.
We recently had someone ‘deliver’ a mattress to the corner of our road and rt 209- not exactly a discreet location. There is virtually no time to intentionally (or accidentally) heave junk off of the back of your truck and not be seen, reported, arrested or rear-ended.
I did a little research on this from the guys at the town dump. There is a $4 fee to dispose of a used mattress. It doesn’t matter if it’s yours or someone else’s. (I’m not sure if they only take used mattresses -- do they have a test to verify it’s used? Do they dust for lice or bedbugs? Use that ultraviolet light to look for bodily fluids like they do on CSI?
Some mattress age investigations are probably pretty much open and shut cases, but how about those questionably new looking mattresses? Or the ones still in the wrapper? (My wife insists people throw away perfectly good stuff). I don’t know. It actually probably doesn’t matter).
The mattress on the side of my road is definitely used and given the lack of attention it gets from passers by, there could well be someone living in it, on it, or under it. Or worse. I don’t think this is what Paul McCartney had in mind when he penned, “Why don’t we do it in the road,” though I bet no one driving by would even notice if elephants were fornicating on it. Too busy texting or whatever.
Anyway, my dump guy gave me three numbers to call to have the problem solved, none of which, incidentally, was the number of the dump itself. He suggested I first call the town supervisor, a man whose day I’m sure will pick right up when he fields this call. I can only imagine that amidst the throttled tangle of paperwork that bulges over his desk, this exciting project must rocket to the top of the heap and make him wonder if he might just be better off flushing himself down the urinal in the men’s room. (“Is this why I got into public service??”)
The dump guy suggested I might also call the highway department superintendant. These are the folks who fix potholes and chisel the splayed, stiffened raccoon carcasses off the road. This mattress is definitely dead. And God knows what yecht is feasting on it now after countless thunderstorms and crippling humidity. Maybe I’ll call. Maybe I wont. There are a lot of mushed critters out there these days. They might be busy.
Dump Guy’s third option was more of a political statement –one of obvious frustration and disapproval. He told me to kick this matter way upstairs and call Obama directly.
How will this play out? I’ve spent enough time on the phone with customer service over the years to answer this by way of natural logic: A bear in the woods needs 5,000 calories per day, let’s say. Let’s say it sees a mouse (1,000 calories) and gives chase. At some point, the bear realizes that the energy expended lumbering after that mouse (3,000 calories) will not offset the caloric gain. Instead, the bear gives up, eats some low hanging, unripe berries, gives himself a bad case of backwoods diarrhea and then takes a nap.
I will be that bear after making my futile phone calls to options 1, 2 (and 3). I then will be out there with my trailer and a hazmat suit and poker. I will struggle with a soggy, boneless, moldy mattress that doesn’t want to leave its ‘happy place’ in the weeds on the side of the road. I will prevail, however, and after much yuckiness, I will wrestle it to the trailer floor and drive the 3 miles to the dump where I will unload it single handedly while the dump boys scratch themselves and look on with great amusement as they pass around my 4 dollar bills and hold them to the sun to make sure they aren’t counterfeit.
Or I’ll send my hottie wife to the dump and watch them fall over themselves to help her unload it. But on second thought, maybe not. She usually goes to the dump with 2 bags and comes back with a pick up truck of stuff like broken treadmills and other forgotten exercise equipment that has had a truncated and disappointing life with another well-intentioned family .
But you. You have an appliance on the side of the road to deal with. White and ugly. I know a little bit about white and ugly. I’m guessing it is valueless or someone would have filched it already.
I’ve got 3 numbers for you to call-Town supervisor, Highway Superintendent, and finally, former President GW Bush (who is obviously responsible and who, I presume, has ample time to deal with just exactly this sort of matter).
Good luck and wear goggles (and gloves)!
Wally
Ps-if you come across a working micro brewery that has been left on the side of the road, make ME your FIRST of 3 calls!

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