In the run up to Dumpster Day #2, there was debate over whether or not we would eclipse the payload of Dumpster Day #1 . DD1 weighed in at 9.2 tons with its eclectic, bulky mix of busted infrastructure and personal effects. Although DD2 lacked that poetic composition, it became clear as the bag stacks grew that its concrete mass was formidable.
This was pure building rubble: chunks of plaster, frame, pipe and wood. Four solid scoops with a snow shovel would load a standard contractor bag to approximately 35 pounds, the maximum we could reasonably expect to heft repeatedly for hours on the big day. But, this left a large vacuum of empty space in each bag which tinged every tie off with guilt.
As a twenty first century Manhattanite, the wanton use of plastic bags feels like a depraved act from another era, like tossing a styrofoam cup out the window of a speeding car. Logistically, this was the most efficient and economical way to dispatch the rubble, but there is no resolution to the intractable deposit we just made to the landfill.
When the day came, there were four of us chucking bags out windows and careening through the side yard with lopsided towers of dead weight in wheelbarrows. Eight hours of this and we knew DD2 had cinched it. Once again, Taylor carted the behemoth away and the results came in:
DD1: 9.2 tons
DD2: 9.5 tons (!!!)
Grand Total of refuse removed by hand from our home thus far:
or 37,400 pounds
3 asian elephants + 1 southern minke whale.