Monday, September 17, 2012

My Mother. Smack Talker.

"I'm much better than your father at mini golf. He chokes in the clutch."

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Jackson and the McNeilus Rear Loader

We stood in the middle of the festival, people dashing all around us eating ice cream with sprinkles. My nephew Jackson gestured for me to lean over so he could whisper in my ear. He said he wanted to take a look at the garbage truck.

Of course I agreed. I'm his yes-aunt.

We shoved past some kid getting his face painted up like spiderman and dodged the line to the bouncy house on the way behind the food carts. To stand before the garbage truck. Gazing at it. Parked there. Kind of smelly. Parked there. Silently.

After awhile, I made a shimmy like I was about to head over to the giant lollipop booth, but Jackson clutched my hand in his tiny vicelike grip and told me that this garbage truck had a dual ops compactor. And he would just like to watch it a little longer. Parked there. Silently.

Jackson is into front loaders, rear loaders, side loaders, pneumatic collectors and grapple trucks. He will gaze at you with a very disgusted expression if you mix up a dumpster and a roll off.

One time, in an error of heinous proportion, I pointed to a blue garbage truck barreling down Sixth Avenue and said, "Look at the NYC garbage truck, Jack!" The kid shook his head and replied, "Oh Aunt Stacey. City garbage trucks are white. That one is municipal."

Whenever Jack can get his paws on an ipad he watches videos of worldwide garbage pick up endlessly-- garbage pick up in Taiwan, garbage pick up in Austria, garbage pick up in South Africa, garbage pick up in Hawaii. Sometimes the waste management activities are set to techno music. Those are my favorites.