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Interests: Alfons Mucha, Archibald Leach, big words, Bob Hicok, Brian Eno, Cat Power, Charles Bukowski, Charlotte Masaryk, cheese, clarity, dark chocolate, David Byrne, David Foster Wallace, Dorothy Parker, Douglas Adams, Edna St. Vincent Millay, E.E. Cummings, Frank O’Hara, Fred Rogers, garlic, Gaudi, Gertrude Stein, ginger, Gustav Klimt, Iva Pekarkova, Jane Austen, Jaromir Nohavica, Jeanette Winterson, Josef Skvorecky, Joseph Campbell, Joss Whedon, Just a Minute, Kate Bush, Kurt Vonnegut, laughing until it hurts, Laurie Anderson, Leonard Cohen, little kids singing, Lloyd Alexander, mandarin oranges, making lists, Margaret Atwood, Miss Manners, New Yorker, Paul Simon, performance, P.G. Wodehouse, poetry, Rebecca Solnit, Rob Brezsny, Robert Anton Wilson, Robert Creeley, salt, Salvador Dali, secrets, silence, Star Trek, Stephen Dunn, Talking Heads, Terry Gilliam, things that stain, This American Life, Tom Waits, T.S. Eliot, vegetable juice, veiled cultural references, vinegar, water, wine, W.H. Auden

holey underpants, batman!

We were going to go to the cottage last weekend but then I had this
dream about squatters and I couldn't face them so we didn't go. I
wanted to make a Productive Weekend to compensate, so we stayed home
and did Important Things like figure out why my pretty iPod hates me
and I closed out all the 2008 paperwork.

And I cleaned out the closet. I am ratty girl who works in her ratty jammies and that's how it is.
But sometimes I start thinking maybe all my clothes don't have to
be so ripped punk rock and I go on a rampage. Such it was this weekend. And when I
had a bag full of horrific nasties I gave them to Squire to take down
to the trash.

Wow, this is kind of harder to tell than I thought. Okay so the way
trash goes here is you obviously take your plastic, glass, and paper to
the recycling. Then you put IN the trash can the things that are trash.
You put NEXT TO or ON TOP OF the trash can the things that are trash
for you but might be treasures for others. I have a certain amount of
pleasure in running stuff down to the NEXT TO trash and then waiting to
see how long it takes to disappear. In particular outgrown clothes are
fun to watch: when you have a kid, they outgrow shoes at an amazing
rate, and since I don't feel like dealing with second-hand stores we
just put the shoes by the trash and pouf! Gone!

But these clothes were not for anybody but the trash man. I mean: who wants toeless socks? So Squire went down to the trash cans but they were full. So he came
back up with the bag of clothes. And I said: just stuff it on top. But
he misunderstood, I guess, and so he placed the bag on top of the trash
can.

And this morning I woke up to watch the trash men take things away and
there were my rip torn underpants all draped all over. Like somebody
went through this bag of old socks, torn sweats, and nasty old
underpants and draped them out nicely for the next customer.

I don't even know if I can show my face in the neighborhood again. That is all.

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4 responses to “holey underpants, batman!”

  1. Aaron Avatar
    Aaron

    They’ve got places to recycle textiles: http://www.sako.cz/separace/textil/
    I’ll admit, I was fully expecting the story to end with you watching a neighbor taking away your toeless socks to use or something. How would people know they were yours and not someone else from the building?

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  2. tuckova Avatar
    tuckova

    Aaron, I’m actually hoping nobody knows who it was. I don’t think most people watch the street as much as I do. If I throw away fabrics again, I’ll recycle them. LESSON LEARNED. -Anne

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  3. Julia Avatar
    Julia

    I love timing how long it takes for things to disappear too, a small hobby of mine and luckily we have a window right across from the recycling center.
    Re holey underwear – I think Czechs take a very pragmatic approach to such stuff, as long as there is material enough, old understuff cut up make useful rags for the chata. Or at least so I’m told!

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  4. Aaron Avatar
    Aaron

    I know that in general we are not watched as much as we watch, but I also have seen too many little old ladies staring vacantly out their windows watching everything that goes by, though not on your street. I say: blame it on the squire.

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