Trash Talkin'

There is no such thing as a free lunch or a free couch.

Trust me.

Several years ago I had moved from El Paso, Texas to Maryland. In El Paso, a fine country house was around $30 pesos per square foot. In the Old-Line state, housing costs were higher, probably due to the fact that your average Sheetrock hanger had a degree from some fancy school in Construction Systems. Naturally, the size of my house shrunk a few thousand square feet. Gone were all the extra spaces to put really big Texas-sized couches.

One day while complaining bitterly about my plight, my neighbor announced that I could have her old couch. "It will fit PERFECTLY in your den!" I should have suspected something. She was eager like a lost puppy that follows you home from a long run. You should not be too surprised when you roll him over to pet his pink stomach and find fleas and scabs. Lost puppies and free couches are a lot alike.

The last light of the day had passed when Neighbor from Hell's husband and a friend slinked over in the dark with the couch. He nodded at me and rushed out the back door, making me wonder if I had somehow offended him. I brushed off my suspicions after all, a new couch was sitting gloriously in my den! I felt smug as I sauntered over to the couch. I had beaten the system and gotten something perfect and free.

Wait just a minute.

Is that a slip cover?

My heart started pounding like the last quarter mile of a 5K when you can see the finish line. Sweat gathered on my forehead. As I pulled the slipcover off, the anticipation I felt equalled Geraldo Rivera's excitement as he unveiled Al Capone's tomb. I tried to talk away the dread that was crowding my lungs. Surely it was a good surprise, Maybe it was like an Antique's Roadshow discovery where under the slipcover, I would find a 19th Century German Fainting Couch worth more than my house.

Despair came when I saw a gold and brown paisley pattern peek out from under a corner of the slipcover. Like ripping a band-aid off quickly to reduce the pain, I snapped that cover off to reveal the UGLIEST couch in America. Drugless childbirth could not produce the same horrible guttural noise that slipped my lips. Small children, animals and my then-husband retreated from the room with the speed of Usain Bolt. And I did what all women from Scarlett O'Hara to Susan Lucci have done when faced with life's calamities. I cried.


When the immediate horror of hideous couch subsided, it occurred to me that I had a new problem. How was I to discard of this couch? Should I call the neighbors, shame them for offering me crap and force them to come get it? Should I drag it in the middle of the night to the curb and put FREE sign on it. I no longer had a truck because no one in suburban Maryland needs a truck, right? How do you get properly get rid of the washer, couch, t.v. or thing that no longer serves you?


SO, WHAT'S IT GOT TO DO WITH YOUR RACE?

I hear ya, reader. When we started to think about putting together a race we wanted a competitive race. We wanted a tough course. But also, the crusader part of me thought that maybe, just maybe, we could use our little race to say something about the roads that we love.

We love this land and the roads that run through it. There is nothing quite so lovely as a wide Oklahoma field with cattle grazing and bales of hay sitting in the sun. The land echoes with stories of people who so bravely came here to stake a piece of land, claim it and work it. Our fair county produces more hay than any county in Oklahoma. The 700,000 acres of agricultural land in Grady county produces $130 million of agricultural products. The sight of pump jack is a beautiful thing to me.




When we run down these roads, it saddens me to see that others do not hold it in the same esteem. I have seen discarded televisions, couches, dogs, cell phones, beer bottles, diapers, tires, and so much more. The list is endless. Trash in the country is a problem. In many rural areas people will drive out to the country to discard that which the city garbage collectors will not take. I wonder how many know that for a mere $26 you can take anything and everything to the Southern Plains Landfill. If you find a bunch more crap on the way, it's only $36.50 a ton. (Now, that's a deal!)


Our race will feature some of the discarded items found on the road, figuratively, and literally. We have an eclectic supply of door-prizes of things that we have found on the road. Some of it is good, usable, and valuable. We will have some fun with the idea. In doing so we hope to show you and others just how senseless it all is.

On Saturday, September 25, The Road Kill 10 Mile Foot Race we will sponsor a Country Road Clean Up Day where we encourage our neighbors to help us get ready for you, our visitors. We'll be out there picking up trash and taking it to the Landfill. It will be a simple work day followed by sharing a few beers. You are welcome to join us in the effort.

You never know. You might find something great. Maybe even a free couch.