Electricity

When I was growing up, I had no sense of scope about the history attached to New York City (or state), nor did I realize how old and famous it really is around the world, because why would I? Sesame Street was a kid's show about a city block that had large animals in garbage pails (like the nightly raccoon raids at our house), narrated by a girl named "Maria", of the same name in the musical West Side Story. Bugs Bunny had a whip smart comeback to every quip that was delivered in a cool cartoon version of our accent, King Kong regularly climbed our tallest buildings, Batman fought for our fair Gotham's streets to be safe, Spiderman spun webs everywhere, and The Ramones just wanted to go to the beach badly on a musician's dime. 

It was either a t.v. show, or a movie, or a play, or your favorite song. Was there anything else? Who cares? We had everything you could think of named after or devoted to our culture. So when I saw this old shit nailed to a post nearby, I knew it was some crusty, rusty relic from our past, but what it actually was? That I had no idea. 

I went in for closer look, at first to take a picture of a funny bumper sticker on a truck parked in the mechanic's garage that operates next door, and there it was; a bright orange spot in the sun. Ever wonder what a switch box from the first electric poles that delivered early currents to old farmhouses converting over to the new power grid looked like, back when it was new? Now you do.

Weird Trash

One of my neighbors went through his stuff, to sort it out before moving across the country, which is always a great idea. It's a great idea anytime, actually. You never know what you'll find (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-vintage-tee.html), 
and clutter is a real productivity killer, so, barring any deeply psychological hoarder-type issues that require strong, daily doses of anti-psychotics and almost constant, round-the-clock therapy, take a deep breath, open up a box, and just start. Call it "Feng Shui" if you want to make it sound extra exotic, like some Ancient Chinese secret.

"Hello, invisible ghost dog!"

Anyway, my neighbor was busily sorting through his stuff one day when I was throwing out my regular, dull, every day garbage, and we had a good, brief exchange about his brother's taxidermy gift, and his older model (but still bitchin') Harley bike. The next day, I found the remnants of his cleaning in the garbage pails, which I photographed. 

This is a "negative", or "film strip".

Don't wait for death or jail time: do it now. What have you got to lose, other than junk? Trust me, your tasteless knickknacks are worth jack shit, man, even on eBay, if you can figure out how to do that. Lose the baggage, and join us free people in society. What are you waiting for? A long holiday weekend?! JUST DO IT. DO IT NOW. Thank you.