Don’t dump on me

I was going to compose this editor’s note as an open letter to the people who chose to use the canyon near my house as a dumping ground, but I suspect people who would be so ignorant as to dump their crap in my backyard probably aren’t reading this newspaper.

Sunday morning, my honey and I were driving down to Smithridge mall to get some fresh berries at Trader Joe’s. We were just swinging through that little canyon at the bottom of Cashill Boulevard near the Steamboat Ditch Trail, when I noticed a mattress sticking up over the safety rail on the side of the road. Great, we thought, some freaking loser dumped a mattress over the side. You see this kind of thing—engines, appliances, garbage bags full of crap—pretty much anywhere you go in Nevada, although typically not in city limits.

Now, I know the person who owns that property. He’s in his 80s, and I know he’s not going to be able to clean up after these scumbuckets who think the world is their dumping ground. So I went down there to pick up the mattress. I’m not looking for any kind of congratulations, I’m just telling you. So, what did I find? Two bed frames, two box springs, two mattresses, a young lady’s bicycle, a plastic basketball hoop, a bag of garbage and a printer.

I guess it was an easy spot to dump because there is a turnout for people who want to enjoy the scenery. Anyway, after hearing my story, the guy at the dump only charged me half-price, $10, to dump the stuff.

In the interest of saving myself some money the next time it happens, I called the city manager’s office. I was told the people to call to get this kind of mess cleaned up is Reno Direct, 334-2099. You might jot that down.

Reason to vote No. 39: Like it or not, terrorism is here to stay. Your vote will help determine who sets the policies that balance personal safety against government intrusion into your privacy.