KEY POINTS:
Well, it's that time again, the time when we recycle our crap and put it out there, for everybody else in the country to look at and judge. No, I am not talking about New Zealand's latest TV talent quest, Ultimate Pop Star. I am, of course, referring
to the inorganic rubbish collection.
This is no ordinary rubbish day; it is the ultimate rubbish day that enables us to throw out just about anything we like, and watch as scavengers pick through it.
The main similarity between Ultimate Pop Star and Ultimate Refuse Day is the fact they are both pushed in our face whether we like it or not.
I took a walk around my block the other morning and was amazed at how much stuff people had thrown out on to the street. It was unavoidable and, had I been a tourist onboard the airport-to-city shuttle, I could easily have mistaken downtown Mt Eden for downtown Soweto.
But it's the scavengers or bargain hunters who really bring this phenomenon to life. Like a road-kill hedgehog infested with maggots, these inorganic rubbish dumps are seething with activity and life: I watched rusty vans, hatchbacks and cars filled with children in search of junk. It was like a scene out of Mad Max. A great exodus of mutants in a post-apocalyptic world where every scrap of junk can be traded for food, fuel or sexual favours, a world where a broken computer desk or soiled mattress might mean the difference between life and death.
They have bird-of-prey vision and often travel in groups, like a maxi taxi full of condors in search of a rotting llama carcass.
I don't have a problem with people in need taking something from an inorganic rubbish pile, one man's junk is another man's treasure, but it's the way in which they go about it that needs more stringent guidelines.
Some guidelines to be considered: Do not prod, laugh or judge my stuff. I am not trying to impress you with the things I have thrown out. People enter Ultimate Pop Star to be judged, I have thrown out my crap so it can be taken away.
Don't ask ridiculous questions about my junk like: "Does this VHS player work?" or "Why are you throwing out this broken clothes horse?" Or, "Do you have the charger for this thing?"
I am not a sales assistant at Noel Leeming and I don't have a store room out back that stocks all the same smelly shoes in different sizes. Take it or leave it and no tools allowed.
Last year I watched a guy use a crowbar to scrape out all the carcinogenic foam insulation from the back of my old fridge so he could get at the motor with his tools.
When he eventually salvaged the tiny part he was after, the rest of the fridge's parts and this mysterious foam substance with a half life of about 60,000 years was spread all over the section. My front yard looked like the Roswell crash.
The year before, in addition to taking away old clothes dryers, a vacuum cleaner and a computer desk, the junk mutants also took my car.
Admittedly the 1986 Honda Accord which had been passed down in my family had seen better days, but a little surface rust and a couple of dents doesn't mean a car is part of the inorganic rubbish collection.
What made it worse was the fact that they actually used the car to tow away the rest of their junk.
There are, however, a number of things you can do to make inorganic rubbish collection a lot more fun for you and your family.
This year, for example, I have taken to booby-trapping my pile of debris with large, loaded mouse traps.
I was in hysterics on Wednesday as a scavenger reached into the back of a washing machine to see if he could remove one of the hoses, only to have two fingers severed by an industrial rat trap.
This was amazing entertainment and has TV game show written all over it. I have already pitched it to the networks under the working title of Trash, Trap or Treasure.
Another entertaining thing to do, is to discard your junk in such a way as to infuriate the bargain hunter.
When throwing out a dinner set, throw out the knives one day and the spoons and forks on another.
They will spend hours searching your pile for the missing items, and if they ask you where they are, you simply say, "I think they are near the bottom somewhere". That, of course, is where the rat traps are.
Obviously, old shoes are ideal for this kind of gag. Always discard shoes, flippers, and walkietalkies separately and if you really want to get them going, throw out a single surround-sound speaker with a heap of speaker cable attached to it that disappears deep into the rubbish heap.
They hate it, and from the relative safety of your home you can see them cursing you as they search for the "missing item".
Ironically, I now scavenge other people's inorganic rubbish heaps just so I can get these sorts of "amusement" items to add to my own heap.
Ultimate Rubbish - be it on our screens, or on the side of the road, at the end of the day it's just entertainment.
