I'm calling a hauler today. Charlie I believe his name is. There's a humpback whale sized pile of trash in the courtyard looking for a new home. I'm tempted to ride with Charlie out to the dump. I've heard one can now sign a waiver and dig trough the wood pile. They also have free paint. One thing, perhaps the only thing, not destined for the dump are the two photographs I found among the debris. I was shocked to discover how fully the digital age has crushed the old fashion photograph. And what a shame that is. There is nothing like a found photograph. Often of the worst variety-camera askew, one large hairline obscuring most of the view with two small waving kids behind, blurry. They can't be beat. And whether or not it is warranted, found photographs instantly sum up the scene. They give you the idea that this is what mattered to the people that came before. Thai food, cars, nostalgia.