The Garbage Man

Today is all about garbage...or rather, the garbage man. I am a pretty tough cookie, coming from the old west side of Chicago, born at Mother Cabrini Hospital. My personal philosophy tends toward the short and sweet - the "just do it" school of accomplishment. I want to applaud a man and those like him, who represent those who are pretty much "invisible", except to complain when something gets screwed up. The invisible ones are those who work in the sorting (and delivering) of mail, the folks who clean the streets, the employees who make sure the electricity can handle our greedy overuse of it, the ones who assure the water is drinkable, and so forth. I met, and spoke with, one of those "invisible heroes" this morning.

It was about 7 a.m. and I was walking my pooch, Oreo. (Yeah, you got it...cute little mutt who is black with white markings.) Anyway we headed out through the garage and took our now familiar path through the apartment complex landscaping, up and down scenically arranged ponds and waterfalls - accented with happy ducks and koi. On this Saturday morning, everything was really quiet with no one in sight. Then I heard the familiar muffled rumble of the garbage truck. I stopped and decided to watch how the great machinery worked. (Hey, ya' gotta find some way to occupy your mind while your doggy "makes poop".) So here was this man at the wheel of a huge garbage truck, the kind with forklift arms that pick up the dumpster and dump in over the top of the truck's cab into the open maw of the truck, a monster of a thing that eats all that falls into its grinding jaws. The man was alone. He arrived to the dumpster spot, stopped, got out of the truck, pulled a dumpster out of its niche, lined up the forks, climbed back into the cab, maneuvered the forks, lifted the dumpster up and over, then down again. He descended yet again to retract the forks, and push the dumpster back to its waiting place. This garbage dance scenario played out to the accompaniment of the engine, the crunching and the roar of the truck. He climbs up to his cab-throne and moves forward some 20 to 30 yards to do it yet again. This he does all day to empty hundreds of dumpsters. I asked him where his co-worker was. He said he had none, that it was a one-man job. It stunned and disappointed me. Mail delivery is a one-man job; cleaning an office is a one-man job; flipping burgers is a one-man job; but emptying garbage is a two, maybe three-man job. In many cities it has to be, as the trucks are not wholly mechanized. One guy drives and the other one or two pick up the cans and feed the truck. I realized how much faster the job could go if two people did it, trading the driving with the pulling and pushing of dumpsters. Equally, if the man were injured, like this morning for example, it is likely that no one would have seen him, heard him or been there to help.

I phoned the company (open on Saturday from 8 a.m. to noon). The lady there was very pleasant and explained that each truck has a walkie-talkie and that supervisors check with each driver-dumper periodically. Hmmmm, that's good! At least it's good on paper. But the guy, if injured, better be conscious and close to the walkie-talkie. If he is on the pavement, the time he might need to survive might be lost if there is no one to help him. I observed that he had no back belt on to prevent, or at least delay, lower back strain. He had no earplugs against the din and loud grinding agony of the monster-truck. The man wore long sleeves and gloves...that pretty much constituting his "protective gear". He was an immigrant, with enough years here to speak English well, but whose slight accent reminded me that he was not unlike the oldtimers in my own hometown who did those invisible jobs "back when". There were the Irish, the Poles, the Italians...all hustling in the dropdead heat of summer and the numbing cold of winter. They dug ditches and graves; they hauled garbage and plastered the walls of now great landmark buildings. In stockyards or sewers, everywhere they worked, no one really ever SAW them. Nor does anyone see them now. Their accents are pleasant punctuations to their words. Anyway, I digress - back to the point...

In my chat with this garbage truck "knight", I urged him to drink plenty of water and to pace himself. In southern California the people aren't really accustomed to the triple digit temperatures and humidity we've had for the past few weeks. I thanked him for his hard work. He smiled. We had exchanged pleasantries and now he is invisible no more. He is "my garbage guy, Phil". Hey! How about that!? I've got my own garbage guy. I guess I always did. But now that I've seen him, spoken with him, and shook his hand - a terrible thing has happened. I can't simply call the company any more if some garbage spills. I can't complain about recycling. I can't do much of that now. I can, however, call and couch my complaint with kindness. I can offer a suggestion or two. I can even walk outside on a Saturday morning and talk to "my garbage guy, Phil" and see how he's doing.

I am going to call the company again on Monday morning to suggest they do one more thing -- add a guy to the truck. Phil and the rest of them deserve it. I think they oughta get a few of the "suits" from executive row on a "ride-along" for a FULL shift. I oppose a lot of different work stoppages and strike threats. But let me say one last thing - GIVE the guys a full jug of water, a back belt, ear plugs, and some lessons in what is hazardous waste (aside from the obvious stuff) - another guy would go a long way, too.

So, Garbage Guys, News Delivery Guys, Mail Persons, Road Workers, Ditchdiggers, Sewer Workers, Janitors, Tree Trimmers,
all of you who have been invisible... Take care of yourselves and, oh yeah, God bless you!

MY ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION RANT - CHICAGO STYLE!

Ya' gotta be kidding with 'NO VISA FOR BRIDESMAID" (Sunday Chicago Tribune - July 9, 2006 - front page)
This young Polish woman should be given a visa, a passport, a red carpet welcome and a couple of nights in a suite at the Drake. Then make reporter Oscar Avila have lunch with her so they can discuss the REAL immigration problem -- and it AIN'T illegal Europeans (who get summarily shipped back when discovered).

I am a transplanted Chicagoan living in southern California. I also lived many years in Mexico and I am an interpreter/translator by education. I would happily urge the California Governator (Arnold) and our Congresspersons to accept ALL of Illinois' illegal Europeans for an equal number of our illegals currently in California. We have a few million here. They came with NO visa, NO passport, NO job, NO skills, NO education, NO English. So at least you guys can more or less FIND your Polish, Russians, Greeks, Italians, whatever... We have no idea where our several million illegals are...unless we stand in downtown Santa Ana and yell "Migra" (Immigration) or go ask 3/4 of the patients in any of the local e.r. facilities that are still open. (Many closed because they couldn't handle the load any more.) Again we are speaking about LEGAL vs. ILLEGAL, not race or country of origin.

So, PLEASE stop Oscar from talking and writing trash. Here many theme parks hire Polish students who come over for the summer to work as food concessionaires, cashiers, etc. In September, they return to Poland. They speak excellent English, smile, are personable, helpful and sincere. The only thing one can hear at our local drive-through restaurants is "Don't you espic espanich?" I wish people would stop asking that. I DO speak Spanish, and English and Italian and French. But when I am HERE in the U.S.A., I speak English in my day-to-day life!

Hmmmm, if there is to be a general "amnesty" that will be called "guest worker", please assure that Iwona Maslanka, the would-be bridesmaid from Poland is HERE! I am going to fight for EVERY SINGLE EUROPEAN, CANADIAN AND OTHERS to be given the SAME STATUS. I do NOT want to see ANY illegals here. But if they ask for a VISA, unless there is a good reason to believe she's a terrorist, give her the damn document and let her in! Half of the terrorists coming here are coming in thru Mexico anyway.

As for your writer Oscar Avila, he should have reported the European stats as they stack against the Illegal Central and South American stats. Whew!
Maybe Oscar should have written about something else that day. And why would he report on the illegal European statistics when he was writing about a young lady who was trying to come her LEGALLY for a family event. Got kinda mixed up there, Oscar.

By the way, here in California, as soon as Mexico was out of the World Cup (Soccer), it was no longer broadcast on mainline t.v. channels. I guess the cable folks here thought that only Mexico mattered. Hmmmm, I was pretty darned happy to see Italy take the prize. I have to PAY to see the Italian t.v. channel, but I've got telavisa, telemundo, etc. FORCE FED to me whether I want those 18-plus channels or not.

AY! AY! AY! Somebody quick - call La Migra! But leave Miss Maslanka with her LEGAL VISA come in the through the front door to Chicago, the FINEST CITY IN AMERICA.

I'll be back in autumn for my 6 month reality check. I can't live without that wonderful gritty, life-giving Chicago spirit and air.

Lucia Bartoli
Born on the westside at Mother Cabrini Hospital
Cubs and Bears fan, unless the White Sox are in Anaheim when I then am screaming "GO WHITE SOX"! (and lots of Angels fans are glaring at me - Yeah, oh well!)