Raiders of Illegal Dumping: Part I

Last night, I felt like a Goonie. Go on you say? Okay. I will.

Which Goonie was I? I don’t know yet. I wish I could say I was Mikey, but the reality is, I was probably Chunk. While I’m sure there is some facebook application called “Which Goonie are you?” I’m going to do this the old fashioned way: self-reflection based on reaction.*

Last night, while walking home from my local Loblaws (the one that had a rat infestation last spring), I decided I would take a shortcut and walk along the railway tracks. In hindsight, this decision was an attempt at a Stand By Me moment, not a Goonies moment, but I guess we can’t pick which 1980s coming of age stories find us when we’re in our 30s.

So, here I am, walking the rails, trying to get all Will Wheaton, when I happen upon an illegal dumping site. Now, there is a dirt road to access this area, but other than that, I am walking in a very out-of-the-way area by Toronto standards (meaning I can’t see a Starbucks, anyone in skinny jeans, or hear a horn honking for no good goddamn reason). This is the type of area where you have bonfires or drink 4 bottles of Red Dog before your 10PM curfew.**

So, I come upon this giant pile of garbage filling up a natural valley made by the railway and high grass on one side and anonymous warehouse walls with half-assed graffiti on the other. Remember when the Goonies found the Fratteli’s hideout? Yeah, I know…I know.

The trash is fresh, and not even proper trash—a lot of it was simply white paper and other materials which are apparently recyclable (plastic and wrapping). But there was a shitload of it. It honestly looked like office waste, not household waste; I decide I’m in Dateline Investigation territory here. I pull out my camera to take a picture (‘cause this would be wicked investigative blogging) ready to blow the whistle on some corporate scandal and get a street named after me...when I hear a car approach…


Now, if you can picture a grown man scampering, well, shit, I scampered. I am not sure when the last time I scampered was: at least 20 years ago and probably on a Christmas morning. I ducked to the other side of the railway tracks and once there, self-conscious as I am, pretended I was “just chillin’” lest someone in a high apartment or literally, on the other side of the tracks, saw me making this bizarre move. My position must have represented the most unnatural “just chillin’” pose of all time: man with grocery bags, sitting on the rocks beside a railway track, looking intently at nothing in particular, holding an open cellphone, and I probably started whistling…a sure sign of someone who hasn’t seen something.***

I had to take a look at the car, so I peaked over the tracks where indeed, a Reliant K Car**** pulls up, and a man pops the trunk and dumps a few garbage bags into the pile. What was I supposed to do? Does Canada have citizens arrest? Should I call Mayor David Miller? I have raw chicken in my grocery bag! Do I really care that much? And what were the dumpers going to do if they saw me? Frig, what would a Goonie do?

Well, this Goonie hid out and waited for the car to leave. Yeah, I know: way more Chunk than Mikey.

So tonight, while many of my friends prepare for upcoming weddings, the birth of first children, maybe pay a bill and eat a meal with some vegetables, David Brock (b.1979) will put on black clothes, pretend he’s “just chillin’” and go check out the secret garbage dump by the railway tracks. Anyone want to come on an adventure? There are still positions available for a Corey Feldman type, an older brother in the mold of Josh Brolin, and a Data.*****

Footnotes (because they are important):
*Besides, I was slightly dissatisfied with recent Facebook application claims that my Punk Rock self is Iggy Pop (I wanted Fat Mike), my Sesame Street Character is Elmo (screw those second generation SS characters) and my Theatre Career should be Lighting Designer (I wanted “None of the above”).

** Anyone remember the rumour that the logo on a Red Dog bottle cap was supposedly Batman performing oral sex on Catwoman?

*** Or “hasn’t seen anything”. Or “has seen nothing.” There are too many indefinite pronouns which seem to make sense here.

**** Indeed is an overstatment. I don’t think it was a K Car, but it’s the crappiest car I can think of. It was probably a Contour or Malibu or something. I don’t know cars and am a crap eyewitness.

*****Must provide own spring mounted boxing glove, oil dispensing sneakers, and booby traps (that’s what I said, booby traps).