Looking back, I'd have to say my life was one long snooze until the day I met Razzle Penney at the Truro dump. Mom had forced me to go with her that morning. She rationalized my servitude by telling me lifting junk would bulk up the muscles in my scrawny arms. Like I cared.
But there I was at the dump at ten o'clock lugging garbage out of the station wagon, then heaving it over the railing into the big container that would truck it off into oblivion. Make it disappear. So people didn't have to look at piles of discarded crap and think about how quickly their new piece of plastic from Wal-Mart or that cute little Gap...