Dale Says

I guess that woman is coming again tomorrow and I don’t really have anything for her to do. What’s her name again?

Abbey.

Right. Abbey. I just can’t seem to remember her name.

Do you remember … um … what’s the name of the man who used to live in that house on the hill — across from that big white house?

Mr. Jones?

Right. Jones. Well, do you remember when he was … oh, what was I starting to say? Well, anyhow, did I tell you that Marge Anderson’s daughter … what’s her name?

Debbie?

No, not Debbie — the other one — the one who’s husband died.

Betty?

Right, Betty. Did you know that her son died in a car wreck?

Yes.

Well, I think that all three kids in that family got divorced. Let’s see, there was Jack, and the oldest girl … what’s her name?

Amy?

Right. Amy. What was I saying?

Her son died in a car wreck?

Anyhow … I probably already told you that what’s her name — John Wright’s wife?

Cathy?

Right, Cathy. Good heavenly days … I never thought I would forget her name. Did I tell you about the time we drove up to that town north of here — what’s it’s name?

Scottsbluff?

No … that other town.

Chadron?

Yes, I think so. Anyhow, that night it was really cold, and all the car windows were rolled up and all three of them were smoking, and I asked her … what’s her name?

Cathy?

Right. I asked Cathy to put her window down, and I nearly froze to death. What a night that was! Oh, well. I guess that was a long time ago.

Do you know that I’m the only one on this block that hasn’t moved out? Everyone else on this block is new, and I hardly ever see them.

I guess it’s supposed to snow again tomorrow. It seems to snow a lot more now than it used to.

I suppose that woman is going to come again tomorrow, and I don’t really have anything for her to do … what’s her name again?

I first met the Goddess of Garbage several years ago in New Orleans, during Mardi Gras. She sat next to me at dinner, during which she told me about the Goddess.

Her real name is Carol Tanzi.  She makes a living doing interior design for people in the Bay Area, but she has created an alter-ego that she calls the Goddess of Garbage.

Carol is in her 70s; a tall, thin, distuingished-looking lady with gray hair.  She is always impeccably dressed and extremely polite.  She would make a perfect grandma.  She’s not the type of person you would expect to be on TV and radio talk shows, and she’s not the type of person you would expect to see dumpster diving.

The Goddess is obsessed with trash and with recycling discarded objects into home furnishings and gifts. She has designed numerous objects from trash, and she has written a book that includes 100 of her favorite trash-recycle projects. Used toilet paper rolls become napkin rings; old shirts become napkins, trashed radiators become tables, and old cans are crafted into desks.

The Goddess travels with rubber gloves, boots, and a step ladder in her car. If she drives past a dumpster with interesting-looking items she stops, gets out of the car, and suits up. She climbs on her ladder, surveys the dumpster contents, and (sometimes) goes right into the dumpster to retrieve things.

Carol can’t resist a yard sale, thrift shop, or a pile of curbside trash. Her storage space and office are crammed with “treasures” she has dug up over the years. She is on a mission. Her goal is to educate people about re-cycling and to show the world a new way to recycle and reuse. “I get huge satisfaction from rescuing castoffs that would otherwise end up in a landfill,” she says.

She’s a little quirky, but in a good way. She has found her “thing” in life, and she loves it.