To The Dump, To The Dump, To the Dump Dump Dump (Sung to William Tell Overture)

 Since a little boy I was a scrounger, gleaning whatever lost, discarded or abandoned property presented by the road, in the sea, and particularly at the dump. Having tried several dumps with varying success – arrested in Rockland for the crime of dump-picking – I settled in Southwest Harbor where BMI Inc. operates a private transfer station that is the best yet. Discussing it over bocce one evening, the guys agreed: on Mount Desert Island, residents actually bring things to throw away. That’s right. All winter, summer residents shop antique stores and auctions from Austin to Boston, buying more fancy items to bring to Maine. In the springtime they call caretakers of sumptuous cottages on the Island to throw away last year’s stuff and make room for this year’s. Beginning April, everywhere piles of discarded goods adorn driveways, fill dumpsters and especially pile up at the dump. It really is astounding what jaded consumerist Pinks throw away!



Over years I became friendly with yellow-vest dump personnel Syd and Bob, who helped me retrieve various items neighbors had discarded. I outfitted my life with stuff from the dump. Why buy? Clothing, boots, tools, building materials, artworks and art supplies, records, cassettes, CDs, DVDs, kitchen items, live plants, fishing tackle, books of all kinds, office supplies, bikes, wheelbarrows, mowers, furniture, games, and especially musical instruments. I found 16 drums, 5 pianos, 6 amplifiers, various stands, wires and hardware, bass clarinet, new ukelele with case and songbook. One day a whole set of cymbals was in the metal dumpster. I could see someone had fun flinging them in there! BASH! One was cracked, but the rest seemed fine. I pulled them out. That evening I sold the crash to Tony, local drummer, for $50. Not a bad day at the dump!

It was only recently that I finally found a guitar at the dump. It was on the ramp, at the bottom of the pile. The soundboard was intact, though the headstock was broken off. What the hay! I can get parts off it if nothing else. It is Fender! I brought it to the boat shop. The headstock was broken off at the top of the neck, the soundboard was pulled away from the upper bout. It appeared most of the damage occurred at the dump, always a shame. However, it looked repairable. In what would horrify a professional luthier, I spooged Elmo’s into the cracks and clamped. What do you know! It held! The neck was more demanding. After several failed gluings, finally I carved a long mortise in the neck and inserted a mahogany spline. That did the trick! I tuned it up and it was stable! Wow! It is a cheap guitar, but it plays and did not cost me a penny. I keep it handy by my bed to play when my heart sings.

Not too much later this Year of Our Snord 2025 I saw a guitar case had been placed, rather than thrown, to the side at the dump. We can always use another guitar case. There’s something in it! I did not even look. Later at home I checked it out. It contained a classical guitar - strings were loose, bridge and nut missing. At first blush, it looked like a cheap nylon guitar, broken. I took a second look. It may have been made cheap, but a long time ago. It is a little parlor guitar, marked Fred Gretsch, Brooklyn, New York. Some research of the serial number revealed it was made in the 1930’s. It is over 80 years old! Wow! Amazing too that despite some surface scratches, it is in very good shape, nothing broken or loose. Not a fancy instrument, it is well made of high-quality wood. More to the point, it has stood the test of time. I carved a new bridge, installed a nut from the junk box, a used string from our tangle of old strings to replace the broken D string. Holding my breath I began tuning it up. It creaked and popped, but it is stable! Wow! Fabulous! It took some time to settle down, but by late evening the Fred Gretsch was tuned up enough to play. It is a nice little instrument, compact, very lightweight. Its cedar top gives it a warm, mellow tone. With low-tension strings it is very comfortable to play. Good intonation, sweet tone, no noise – a very competent instrument, and I did not put a nickel into it. Only defect – someone had applied scent, and it is odiferous. I remove it from its cardboard case often as possible to air it out. I played the Fred Gretsch parlor guitar for Concerto Cuccina at Zeppa’s Pizza Parlor. Perfect!

Only weeks later, at the dump again, I saw an instrument case set out near the ramp. In it I found a violin. It is a brand new Chinese-made student model, not a mark on it or the case. Wow! Only it had a broken string. That’s like throwing away a car because a flat tire! Back home I twisted a used E string around the tiny violin end ball and restrung it. It is stable! Wow! I always wanted to try playing violin! I scratched away at it, occasionally getting a sustained clear tone. I need to bone up my bow technique. My hands are a little too big for its tiny fingerboard, and soon I not so mistakenly left it with a family that plays violin.

Today Rio Bisbee.Band employs a number of instruments from the dump daily: Yamaha keyboard that was full of water, Dean Markley amplifier with a stove-in rear panel, cymbals by Ziljian and Sabian, the Fred Gretsch guitar, and sundry musical items including an Asian rug depicting various musical instruments, with piano keys for a border, that adorns the music room floor at Studio 455.

Thank you Detritia, dump goddess!

Yocrazyan, dump rat