Once we were dumpster divers. In the sweltering heat of northwest Ohio, we found coolness in the dumpster's metallic womb, which always seemed to beckon us to explore her hidden inner rampants for whatever treasure we could pillage. And pillage we did, descending upon her with greedy hands that probed and investigated with liberties that only a blind man should have; yet blind we were, to the oblivious to the dreary repertoire that had become Our Lives. No eternal summer's kissed waves splashed salty, sun drenched shores near us, no exotic Mardi Gras parades floated past us with their wild flavors of strange new wonders and sights. We bided our time in the dumpster, infants, blind to anything but our seemingly unending supply of Interesting Discarded Things and our happiness.
"Ahhh, but I could die here, and awaken to a paradise, and never know I died." Simon said to me one day. "For surely, even in Heaven, there are those things discarded by the saints. Wonderful things, divine things waiting for us to discover."
"Yes, of course." I said, leaning back on a discarded carpet, gazing up at the stars. "Think of the things to find! Halos, scrolls written by angels, lost commandments, the divine relics of Earth and Heaven, all there, waiting for us to find."
"Do you think it will be like that?" fEk asked, looking up from a discarded radio he had found. "I think it will be much like earth. Dumpsters filled with everyday things that the angels use, and no longer want. Much like dumpsters here in the physical realm. The real treasure is that we appreciate what we do; make treasure from trash, and enjoy things so that they're still wanted and useful to us."
fEk had a wild look in his eyes. He went on, ranting about objects that we had found lately, and how he was growing tired with the same things over and over. Simon threw fEk a perfectly good slinky that someone had discarded without love, and he grinned. Afterwards, we had a coffee ground fight, and headed home for the night, arms packed with treasure.

Those were heady days, I recall, living day to day in bliss, completly enraptured in our odd but fruitful hobby. I would like to say those days never ended, and that fEk never heard of the dumpsters out west, where people threw away working 386's and tacky kitsch statues or lava lamps, but he did, and before long, like some rare bird that flies away, never to come around again, fEk left us.
It was the end of our dumpster diving. Without fEk's upbeat, sunny personality to brighten even the darkest dumpsters, Simon and I lost interest. Discarded coffee makers were just that. Couches left for the garbagemen to haul away smelled funny to us. For a long time, Simon and I avoided bringing up any topic that could open that old wound; yea, our dumpster-diving days had become an embarassment to us; a shadow in our memories buried deep and forgotten, like the rubbage we once so joyfully sought out. And just when I thought the passion had faded completely, Simon and I received a package from fEk, which we thought was odd. "What business could someone who lives as wide as he possibly have with us? What are we to him, but dead friends from a dead state filled with trash that no longer holds his fancy?"
We opened the package, and out fell two Sony CD players, and a note.

"My dearest friends." it began, in flourishing handwritting we recognized as fEk's. "Things are beyond lovely out here. A large group of us have dumpster outtings every night. Well, actually, we rent ski-jets and jet over to the garbage barges under the Bay Bridge. I thought I would say hello, and send you these CD players, which are the bane of my existance. If I see one more discarded CD player, I'll go crazy! Everyone ditched them after DVD came out. Though I'm sure you have DVD players by now, I thought you might enjoy the nostaglia of a whimsical old relic. Enjoy.
fEk"

Simon blinked at the CD player in his hands. "This model came out last month. It costs about $450. I'd have to save for months to get something this nice, and fEk finds it in a damned garbage boat in 2 minutes."
"Simon..." I said, raising my hands to placate him.
He strode over to the dumpster next to us, threw away the CD player, and turned to walk away. I sadly started towards my car to drive home. It was over. No longer could we cling to fanciful romances or obsessions. fEk was never going to return, and neither would our happiness in the art that we once knew as dumpster diving. I was just about to get into my car and drive away when I heard Simon shout.

"Ki! Betcha I can snag that CD player before you can!"

With a wink and a hoot, we both raced helter-skelter towards the dumpster, and dove in, laughing like old times. Yes, this was a still just trash, and we were still just dumpster-divers, but now we were looking for a true treasure. Not just fEk's CD player, but our old times. I marvelled at the Wisdom of fEk, who must have known what we had become, and dove deep, to the treasure that awaited us. The treasure that is always around us, but we so rarely see.
Look, my brothers and sisters, look.

-1997 David Orth