Dump Me Up
When I was a kid, I used to get sooooo excited about going to the dump. My dad and I would sing along to Johnny Cash's "Five Feet High and Rising" on the way there, and all the while I'd be dreaming of exactly how I was gonna toss all that crap off the back of the truck. Would I drop back and hurl a spiral, Joe Montana-style? Pretend I was Jean-Claude Van Damme and kick it off the tailgate? So many decisions to make.
But it did sometimes cross my mind...what were we gonna do once that big pit got filled up (with all the stuff I swatted in there with my awesome Reggie Jackson swing)? I remember asking my dad once, and he got kinda quiet and said simply, "I don't know." It was rare for my dad to not at least attempt to make up a random yet vaguely plausible answer to any question he was asked, so I knew it had to be serious. Years later, I'm not sure we much more of an answer than that. Reuse really is the way to go - so long as you don't go too far.
SF Editor Mike...off to practice roundhouse kicks...




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