Crazy Crap Item #247: The part where I record a wee tidbit about Chicago living

Here in Chicago, we are lucky enough to have a dedicated corps of folks committed to ensuring that all our refuse is hauled away in a timely fashion. I speak not of those valiant fellows of Chicago Streets and San. Their efforts, though helpful and courteous, leave a residue of refuse that still must be contended with. These items are typically claimed by the Chicago alley trash pickers.

An unafflilated band of helpful do-gooders, these are fellows who comb the alleys looking for good things that people are throwing out. Often, the items they rescue are re-sold, or sold as scrap metal. This can be useful, as it means never having to worry about whether the trash man will haul away large or unwieldy items. The trash pickers gain access to an otherwise untapped source of revenue. Everyone wins.

There is, however, a wee problem. These snappers-up of unconsidered trifles have a very loose and generous notion of what is being "thrown out."

To wit:

-- A guy down the street reports that he came upon them trying to haul away his lawn mower. He assured them he was still using it.
-- My neighbor Ruth offered me an in-table sewing machine whe wanted to get rid of. She called to let me know she had just put it in the alley. By the time I had hung up the phone and walked out there, the sewing machine had been removed.
-- Ruth, similiarly, had a rain spout that had become detached, and had leaned it up against the house, still in the gutter. It disappeared like the fine morning mist.
-- My friend Will was working on rehabbing his basement, and had removed the door for easier access. He leaned it against his fence, and when he returned, someone had walked off with it.

My neighbor Ann claims that if you stand for too long in the alley, they will swipe the metal shoelace eyelets right off your shoes.

I hear it's worse in Detroit, though. A friend of ours told us about a guy he knew who was barbecuing steaks in his back yard. He went in to get a beer, and when he returned, the steaks were gone.

Such is city life.