Note on the city of Minneapolis website: "Do you have hazardous waste sitting around your house? You can get rid of it at the upcoming collection event."
Hmm. An event? Balloons for the kids? Hazzy the Clown amusing all with his hijinks? Deep-fried medical waste on a stick? And who has hazardous waste "sitting around the house"? Does anyone's spouse ever yell, "Could you just do something about that barrel of PCBs in the living room? I'm tired of vacuuming around it."
Our attitudes toward waste have changed, it seems. Old days: "Hey Dad, can I pour the paint down the sewer drain?" "Sure, but wait for the used motor oil to go down first." Now: "OMG OMG this roasted-red-pepper soup is a week past the expiration date, put a sterile tent around my house and take it out with tongs."
Old days: "Welp, time to drive into the country and heave the old car battery out the window." Now: "Do these Q-tips qualify as biological waste?"
Last time I went to the drop-off center there was a bin of nothing but VHS tapes, which made you realize this is the fate of 99.93 percent of all copies of "Sweatin' to the Oldies." These exercise tapes featured a person named Richard Simmons — a round, braying imp with a Chia Pet hairdo — encouraging seniors to snap their tendons while extending their limbs to Bill Haley music.
I asked the worker: "These are going to be crushed, then burned, then compacted into a dense wad and blasted into space, right?" He was noncommittal, which worries me.
They will ask you what you're bringing in. You may be tempted to joke, "Oh, used hypos and spent fuel rods. Weirdest estate sale I ever saw. Tried eBay, but only sold a couple."
I recommend you do not say this. For some reason they take down your license plate number after you leave.
jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858
