One: The desk and the dumpster

Take a look at the desk that is pictured here.
It's a corner-style desk, largely made of simple metal tubes with some small wooden pieces and two very heavy pieces of thick, dark glass.
Several years ago, I paid more than $200 for this desk. It has served me well.
It's time for an upgrade.
I offered this corner desk to several people, including my Vicki, and no one wanted it. 
"I'm glad you liked it," Vicki said with some sarcasm mixed in there. What she meant was, 'I would never have bought that thing cause there are no drawers for storage. You really just bought a collection of metal tubing and two big slabs of glass.'  
At least that's what I heard when she said, "I'm glad you liked it."
With no takers - not even a bunch of Baptist preachers, who in my experience will grab anything free or maybe that's just food - I decided to take the desk to the local collection and recycling center. Don't get excited about that title - our collection and recycling center is a collection of dumpsters so you can sort your trash.

I first stopped at the glass dumpster and tossed the two heavy pieces of glass. No worries.
Next, I drove about 5 yards to the metals dumpster, stopped my truck, and prepared to hoist the desk into the dumpster.
I'm 60 years old, but still one heck of a hoister. Being a good hoister requires a big, strong butt combined with good quads, hamstrings, and calves. If my arms - beleaguered by tendonitis and arthritis - hold up, my legs can carry the freight and hoist high and long. It's a gift. You can probably tell I'm proud of myself. Baptist preachers call that sin, and I agree with them.
I grabbed that cumbersome desk with both hands and jerked it off the back of the truck. Carrying it to the metals dumpster - a long dumpster about six feet tall with a completely open top - I did the amazing. I jerked that desk over my head and held it there.
I felt like Conan The Barbarian. I wanted to laugh big like a pirate. "Hahahahaha! Look at me!" I didn't really laugh like that, but I was proud of the feat that made me look stronger than I was. Several other dumpster dumpers were nearby, and busy lifting and hoisting, but none of them had lifted a desk over their heads. I was proud. If only Vicki had been there to see her man.
Then, I took three steps and smiled to myself. I was about to wow all the dumpster faithful with my hoist. 
I gave a slight squat and then hoisted. 
The desk left my hands and soared up and over the side of the dumpster.
And, then . . .
. . . it was suddenly coming back at me.
Yes, I didn't see that the dumpster was full at the exact point where I threw the desk.
That desk clanged against something and then bounced - can metal bounce? - right back at me.

It's one thing to throw a metal desk into a six-foot dumpster.
It's something altogether different to catch a metal desk being thrown back at you by the said dumpster.
I put my hands up in self-defense, may have dropped an expletive or at least a "yikes," and then caught the desk with my chest. I stumbled backyards as the desk bounced off the pavement. I was pretty sure I had broken ribs - and as it turned out only bruised them.
Two younger men, one of them with an arm tattoo that read 'No Shame,' laughed and together got the desk into the dumpster. 'No Shame' then looked at me - and I'm pretty sure he felt like I should be full of shame - and said, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said though it hurt considerably to breathe.
The other man patted me on the shoulder and said, "Welp, have a good one."
A good what?

I smiled. I got in the truck, pretty sure I had punctured a lung (which I had not).
Driving away, I stared at the desk peeking over the top of the dumpster. It seemed to be smiling that it had taken a few pieces off my man card.
I got the last laugh, however - though it hurt to do so.
My new and much-improved desk will be here this week.


I am writing a weekly post for the next 52 weeks, culminating with the launch of my new book titled Nine Innings. You can read about and order my other books at Amazon or at shopsvministry.com.
This blog is a politics-free zone.


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