By Paul Hendrickson –

Every Tuesday night we roll our garbage cans to the curb, knowing the garbage man (or garbage collector as some liked to be called) will be there at first light on Wednesday to haul away our refuse from the past week. He is consistently punctual and leaves us a signed greeting card around the holidays. I know his name because of that simple act, but never really thought about him otherwise. That changed yesterday when I struck up a brief conversation with him a few subdivisions away while I was walking our dog. It was not a long conversation, but well worth the time.

The man we’ll call Chris was loading a large sofa into his garbage truck. I stopped and told him I wanted to watch the giant claw in action. The trucks his company use are side loaders. They have a mechanical arm that grabs the trash bin (or sofa in this case), and then hoists it into the top of the truck. Chris worked the arm with precision using the small joystick on the dashboard. I felt myself begin to geek out. I recalled the scene in Aliens where Ripley, strapped inside a giant power loader, fights off the queen alien. Sofas likely weigh less than a queen alien, but curiosity got the better of me.

After bringing myself back to reality I asked, “Is there anything that can’t pick up?”  

 Chris smiled. “Not so far.”

“It must save you a lot of time.”

“Oh yeah. It saves us a lot of time – and backs.”

Chris paused and stepped out of the truck to check something on the side. “There is a downside though. That mechanical arm cost a lot of people their jobs.”

He stepped back inside the cab of the truck. “There used to be two or three people working a truck, now only one. There are a lot more advances than just the arm too. Everything is computerized and tracked closely. You have to go through a load of training.”

We went on another few minutes talking about his job and how the garbage collection industry had changed over the last twenty years. I explained where we lived, and he recalled seeing my truck parked on the driveway. He thanked me for the card we gave him during the holidays.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to it,” he said as he climbed into the truck. “It was good talking with you. Most people just walk on past.”

“I appreciate what you do. Plus I don’t want to get on your bad side and end up with a month’s worth of trash sitting in front of my house.”

He laughed. “Glad to do it. Take it easy.”

With that he drove to the next house and the dog and I continued our walk. I started to think of all the other people I encounter during the course of a day. We get so busy with our own lives and careers we often forget about people like Chris.

Who do you overlook? Maybe it’s someone in your office that you count on for a myriad of repetitive tasks, but no one engages or thanks. Maybe it’s your garbage collector or mail carrier. Maybe it’s a neighbor. What can a few minutes of conversation hurt? You might even learn something.

Now when I drive by his truck and exchange waves I will not see the garbage man, I’ll see Chris.