Curbing It on the Edge of the Ghetto

When you live in a part of a city that could sometimes be described as “the edge of the ghetto,” you discover peculiarities that people living in other parts of the city are unfamiliar with.

For example, one of my friends posted on Facebook how she and her husband were recently trapped in their garage until police arrived after a crazy woman followed their vehicle into the driveway and proceeded to rap on their door for 10 minutes. When the police came, the woman flashed her “floppity meth boobs” at them in the middle of the street and yelled, “Don’t shoot! I’m a woman!”

Now, that’s the kind of entertainment you just can’t find in suburbia. And it’s free.

Having lived on the edge of the ghetto for nearly a decade, I have learned the finer benefits of my neighborhood. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a great neighborhood. I love the diversity and convenience, which is why I’ve chosen to live and stay here. We have old houses and big, mature trees. And, for the most part, it’s safe — save for the occasional gang member hiding from police in an empty house or the criminal antics of the teenagers across the street.

Part of the convenience is a practice I’ve come to know as “curbing it.” Several years ago, I had a set of two dining chairs that were in good condition but which I no longer wanted. They surely wouldn’t fit in my compact car to drop off at Goodwill or the Salvation Army, and I don’t have much storage space in my house. So, taking a cue from my neighbors, I set the chairs at the curb with a sign that said, “FREE.”

The next morning, the chairs were gone. It was like a magical, hassle-free way to get rid of good stuff I no longer wanted. Since then, I’ve set a few large items at the curb, and they’ve always disappeared by morning.

My sister lives about a mile from my house. A few months ago, we were talking about this practice. Her expression brightened as she said, “Oh, you curbed it!” She and her husband use the expression “curb it” when they have good junk they no longer want. Until that time, I’d kept my curbside donations a secret, setting out items in the dark of night.

Then, I decided to see just how far I could take curbing junk.

Several months ago, on a health kick, I bought a case of V8 V-Fusion juice at Costco. I don’t like juice, and I didn’t like this one any better. I drank two or three cans of it, then it just sat in the fridge. Finally, I got tired of looking at it. I figured I could dump it in the trash, but then I decided to curb it. Sure enough, the next morning it was gone.

Christmas ornaments or clothes you don’t want anymore? Put them in a bag and curb it. TV that doesn’t work anymore? Curb it. You can curb virtually anything, really.

Recently, however, I discovered the one caveat I must issue about curbing your junk: People may steal your trash.

Over my xmas break, I cleaned out my linen closet and bagged up all of the good but mismatched pillow cases, blankets and sheets. I intended to drop them off at Goodwill, but in the middle preparing for my sister’s wedding, I was too busy, so I curbed them. I also tossed an old, hole-ridden comforter and other garbage in the trashcan. It just so happened that I curbed the good stuff on the same day I had to set out the trash, but I put the bag of good stuff several feet from the trashcan.

The next morning, the bag of good stuff was gone — but so was the bag that contained the holey comforter and other trash. Obviously someone was going to be disappointed with the second bag.

That same day, I was at my sister’s house when I noticed a refrigerator at the curb of her neighbor’s house. A half-hour later, when we went outside, we noticed the fridge was gone. Her neighbor came out, and we laughed and said, “So you know the secret of ‘curbing it,’ too?” He looked confused, and we pointed to the spot where the fridge had been.

“Someone took it?” he said. “I was going to call a service to pick it up!”

Yes, in less than an hour, someone had come by and taken the fridge.

I’ve since learned that people in other parts of the city curb it. People who live near the universities have been known to curb furniture and various items that college students find useful and pick up. I guess you could consider curbing it as donating useful junk to the people in your neighborhood who really need it or can find a good use for it.

Paterno’s Cheerleaders Highlight America’s Blind Obsession With Sports

I’m afflicted by waves of nausea. I don’t feel feverish, and I’m certain it’s not the flu. Rather, I am sickened by the overwhelming number of social media posts hailing Joe Paterno since the announcement of his death today. Sports fans are posting “RIP Joe Pa,” and similar sentiments all over Twitter, Facebook and other social networks.

Those sentiments just go to prove how sports-obsessed this country is, even to the detriment of our children. I’ll concede that Paterno was an outstanding coach. He had a long, successful career leading the Penn State football team and program. I’m certain that he positively influenced the lives of thousands of young men during his career. But he was far from perfect, and he was not worthy of idolatry. What sickens me is that now that Paterno is dead, sports fans want to be his cheerleader, ignoring the evidence that he allowed his assistant coach, Jerry Sandusky, to continue molesting young boys, even after Paterno received reports of such abuse. That’s beyond a mere “mistake.”

The American sports industry and its fans love to have something to cheer about. In this case, they will even cheer for a man who knew that Sandusky was abusing boys and provided the playground for that abuse. Considering that Paterno knew about the abuse and allowed it to continue, allowed Sandusky to keep an office on the Penn State campus, and allowed Sandusky to come and go as he pleased on campus, I consider Paterno an accomplice.

Oh, sports fans claim that Paterno did what he was supposed to by reporting the incident to his superiors. Sure — he did what he was legally obligated to do. He did the bare minimum in order to protect himself and his football program. Because, ultimately, what mattered most to Paterno wasn’t the security of youths. It was the security of his career and his football program. Paterno had the opportunity to become a true hero by reporting the abuse to law enforcement. He failed to do so.

And all of that is disgusting. What is equally, perhaps even more, revolting is that millions of sports fans are blindly mourning Paterno’s death, ignoring the evidence, willing to sweep it under the rug in order to have something to cheer about. No, Paterno didn’t diddle young boys. But is it any better that he allowed and enabled it?

I wrote a post on Facebook this morning about how Paterno’s death demonstrates how sports-obsessed this country is. Several of my friends expressed their agreement. It actually sparked a lively discussion when one friend’s comments only proved my point. He’s a sports fan, and littered his comments with “RIP Joe Pa,” professing Paterno’s innocence and calling me and others ignorant about the case because we dislike sports.

I’m far from ignorant about the case. I have followed it closely. I have read the full grand jury report (which will also turn your stomach), and I have read articles from various news sources. I’d venture to guess that’s more than the average sports fan has done.

What I’m noticing in these pro-Paterno posts is that sports fans are content to ignore the fact that as a direct result of Paterno’s inaction potentially dozens of young boys were molested. Their lives are forever impacted by Paterno’s decision to save himself and his program rather than them.

And that is the sad, disgraceful state of our country. Americans are so involved with sports and idolizing athletes that they fail to consider the negative effects on our society. We’ll pay millions of dollars for a new stadium to host the College World Series for 10 days a year, but we have impoverished children who don’t eat and subpar schools. College and especially professional sports are rife with immorality (to put it gently), yet millions of Americans cast a blind eye toward infidelity, doping, rape and sexual abuse, societal problems and more in order to have something to cheer about every weekend.

That should be enough to nauseate anyone. 

SOPA Sucks and Piss on PIPA

I'm pretty sure that I can't make my blog go dark today without deleting it, but I want my readers to know that I'm against legislation that seeks to limit and police the Internet under the guise of stopping piracy. Write to your legislators and tell them to shove these bills where the sun don't shine. Enter your zip code on Wikipedia for the contact information for your state.