The Trash Man Cometh

I was out running some errands a few days ago, impatient to get back home and take advantage of a gorgeous springlike day to work in the yard.  All of a sudden, traffic was brought to a standstill by a garbage truck making its rounds. [Photo borrowed from Internet] It was blocking my lane of traffic so I had no choice but to sit and wait for the man to jump off and on the truck emptying the trash cans along the way.   As I waited, I watched him and  thought about what a thankless, dirty job he had.   That particular day was beautiful ... but what about all those cold winter days when it's freezing outside, or raining ... or in the summertime when our steamy Mississippi humidity makes it almost unbearable to be out? As I followed the truck for a couple of blocks, I wondered how many stops they made in a day ... how many trash cans did he pick up and dump in the back of the truck ... 50? 100? ... or more?   I felt ashamed that I was impatient because the truck was slowing me down, and wished I could thank the guy on the truck for the service he performs twice a week, rain or shine, hot or cold ... and probably never gets a "thank you" or a smile or is even acknowledged, except, perhaps, by disgruntled drivers who are in a hurry to get someplace.   I'm not sure how I can show my appreciation to the guys who pick up our trash.  Perhaps the best way would be to write a letter to the company letting them know that we appreciate their service and ask them to pass the message on to their employees.  Yes, I think I'll do that today!