Culture Clashes.

Today marks the beginning of this couch's third week on the curb. I suppose the folks who placed it there are waiting to see if the garbage collectors will pick it up. They didn't touch it two weeks ago. Or last week. Maybe today?!

Meanwhile, half a block away, two houses side-by-side have gone up for sale. One is listed at $760,000, the other at $880,000. Will the folks shopping for a house that is pushing the million-dollar mark want to live on a street where couches linger? Perhaps they'll find it kitschy. If I were these sellers, however, I don't think I'd take that chance. I'd borrow a pick-up truck, drive half a mile to the dump and get rid of this thing.

Yesterday evening riding my bike up Densmore Avenue, I saw a man in Eddie Bauer gortex "watering" the plush lawn on his large corner lot. Attached to the hose's nozzle was a green plastic jug. As I rode by, the middle-aged woman in the patch-work house next door, hippie skirt blowing in the breeze, asked the man: "Are you spraying poison on your lawn?" I think this relationship is in trouble.