Plans in the Trash

Sometimes life doesn't exactly go the way you plan it.
I know mine hasn't.

Throughout my childhood, I knew what I wanted to be.
It was going to be the coolest job ever.
I was going to be the garbage man.
He was the coolest.
He got to drive that huge truck all around town.
He got to ride on the back and hang off the side.
He got to throw stuff.
He got to see a bunch of cool stuff that some people throw away.
I knew that he probably kept some of the cooler stuff - for free.
I couldn't imagine anything better.
I would run to the window and watch him as he came to our house every time.
I know I was mad and sad when I missed him.

That's what I was going to do everyday when I grew up.
But something happened along the way.

I no longer thought driving that huge truck up and down the same streets everyday would be fun. The traffic jams and angry residents would get on my nerves pretty quickly. It doesn't seem like they hang off the back anymore. They are always in such a hurry. There's always more trash to pick up. I guess that's some form of job security, but I wouldn't ever feel like I accomplished anything that day. All the crap that people buy, keep for years and then suddenly realize they can live without and just pitch to the curb doesn't look as appealing as it once did. I don't see much out by the street that I would want to touch, let alone keep.

Where did the glory of the job go?
Where did the appeal disappear to?
Has the job changed that much?

I think the magic of the trash man still exists.
In fact, I am certain of it.
Little boys (and some girls) grow up watching the garbage man with pure fascination.
They grow up, lose the wonder of the job and do other things.

However, every year there are new noses pressed to the window to cheer the arrival of the trash man. Everyday, all across the United States, there are children who reap huge amounts of enjoyment out of watching these men do their jobs. I hope that there are also parents like mine, who loudly announce the arrival of these men to their children without judgement or condemnation in their voices. I hope that there will always be parents who participate in the things that excite and thrill their children, like mine did with the arrival of the huge garbage truck.

I grew up. My dream of driving the garbage truck faded. My fascination for the job ebbed. My respect for those trash men never did. I am thankful that they do what they do. I'm glad they show up for work everyday, regardless of the weather. I appreciate who they are and what they do.

And someday, I will shout to my child "Here comes the garbage man!" and run with them to the window or outside to watch. In doing so, I hope to teach them that they can be whatever they want to be and I will still love them and respect them. And if they ever do become the garbage man, I hope that they will let me ride on the back for a moment...