Scrap Metal

Recently we discovered that the trailer loads of "scrap" were very popular with "scrappers".  Unknowingly we were tossing everything only to find that each metal has a value! As the economy dipped deeper we began to receive daily calls “hey, you got metal in your trailer today?”  As entrepreneurs, we saw the immediate value and decided to collect and separate metals for our own extra cash: one bin for copper, one for contaminated (metal mixed with wires or plastic), one for bronze, aluminum, etc.  For about six months our side yard turned into a junk yard. At first it was fun--kind of like composting!  Each day I tossed my recyclables from the kitchen into the proper bin. However, it wasn’t long before the scrap pieces wouldn't fit into a single bin and the piles began to grow.  We had aluminum awnings, engines, air conditioners, pool side lawn furniture. It became impossible to hide behind our backyard fence.  The side yard took on the look of similar landscapes one might find in neighborhoods on the outskirts of town. 

Let me explain something about where I live.  Our house is on a cul-de-sac in a well-trimmed middle class neighborhood.  Our neighbors are our friends.  We meet with our kids in the street and visit as they ride their bikes and learn to roller skate.   We have group yard sales and help each out in emergencies.  We're normal!  They like us and we like them.  We'd like to keep it that way.

But inevitable happened.  We received a letter from our HOA.  Kindly, they informed us that our trash enclosure area was unacceptable.  We had 30 days to improve it.  It was a good time to take the scrap metal in and collect our cash! My husband and I sorted the different metals for an entire afternoon.  I learned there is a technique.  I was given a piece of steel wool and was instructed to scratch the surface for proper identification.  Dutifully, I fulfilled the assignment and soon we had a trailer load.  Excitedly, we headed for the scrap yard.

The scrap yard is the most culturally eclectic place I've witnessed since changing my name at the Social Security office!  At first I was a little intimidated with the rough mannerisms of the metal handlers.  Few words are spoken.  A heavy iron gate swung wide open for our trailer and we were directed by an unshaven man with a single finger pointing to the right side of the yard.  We pulled up and were met by a middle aged woman in a tank top advertising some local bail bond company.  She smiled through her decayed teeth and offered to help us unload.  The nearby radio station was blaring the latest version of "Your Cheatin' Heart."  The lady hummed the tune as she reached for the bumper of an old car.  I pulled on my gloves, opened the trailer doors and helped.  Finished, I thanked her for the help--she motioned me off as she reached for a nearby soda.   

Checking out through the same gate the same burly man silently took the slip of paper from my hand, noted the weight and counted back over $200 in my hand!!  My husband and I broke into a broad grin as we leafed through the 20 dollar bills.  We felt rich!  Little was said on the way back to our house.  My mind was filled with chores left undone and dinner to be made.  Without a word, my husband pulled into the grocery store parking lot.  "Let's barbecue burgers for the neighbors tonight, babe."  Good idea, I thought--nothing wrong with sharing the reward.