Things That Are Not Compostable

Last time, I mentioned that I have come to think that Westchester folk are trying to be generous when they curb their perfectly good furniture, kids toys, and other cast-offs that originally "cost a pretty penny," as my Depression Era dad would say.

"Hey there!" these neighbors seem to shout. "This thing is totally great—and it can be yours for FREE! Just get it out of here....Now." Sometimes, they tape similarly worded paper signs to carefully disassembled bookcases and bed frames, baggies of bolts and screws duct-taped underneath so as not to mar the finish.

An “Everybody Wins” situation: great, right? The thing is, I've found that Westchester folks rarely use craigslist, freecycle, or any other social media to share that this deal is lurking in the dark, in a cul-de-sac not five minutes from your home.

So, people who could use that extra jogger, pair of dining chairs, or reading lamp have no clue and miss the deal. Or, they are too something (busy? embarrassed? overloaded with stuff already?) to stop if they drive past and see it.

I’m not an upcycling saint. I still rush home in the rain after a tutoring session, thinking, "I sure hope someone picks up that white velvet salon chair before it soaks and rots." A decade ago, my metal frame futon and mattress—my first grad school purchase and a killer deal in 1995 at $220 for delivery and assembly—made a horrifying metal-on-metal scream when folded by the garbage truck compactor. Just moved out of NYC (where curb shopping is a citizen's right and duty) I never thought that no one would pick this beauty off the curb.

Big stuff does frequently get grabbed by someone. I'm not alone out there, though I'm probably the only one doing this in business casual clothes and a white minivan. There are categories of items, however, that I never see picked up:

* TVs (both tube and flat screen), VCRs, DVD players, stereo equipment

* Golf clubs, bags, and shoes

* Framed art and unused/sealed poster frames

* Beach chairs and umbrellas

* Skis and all manner of ski equipment: boots, hats, poles, goggles, and crutches.
 
Weirdly, this “garbage” is often put out with the lawn clippings on a Sunday night (one of the quirks of Westchester County’s pick-up days, which vary from neighborhood to neighborhood). Lots of times, they are half-hidden by paper bags and leaf piles. Only a flash of reflected headlight will catch my attention as I drive.

Atop a “compost pile,” I once found a mahogany jewelry box that contained 16k gold heart pendants, sterling silver necklaces, and Chanel sunglasses. (A student dubbed that cache “The Heartbreak” –and yeah, I sold The Heartbreak.)  Last summer, I found a number of religious icons in just one week. I even made a Facebook album called “Jesuses I Have Saved from the Trash.”



I do what I can. For example, I left the trio of Jesuses on the steps of a local Catholic church late at night (to be found like orphans the following morning by the kindly priest…?). I even started grabbing skis and golf clubs just to appease my conscience. (To be clear: I know nothing—and care nothing—about skiing or golf.) But, there's an endless supply in Westchester, it seems. My back patio and basement now look like an out-of-date sporting goods store.

And, of course, beach chair season has come again….

Copyright 2013, Tanya Monier