美国缅因州：一个遍布“免费”的地方_大学英语阅读

美国缅因州：一个遍布“免费”的地方

What strikes me is the speed with which discarded goods are scooped up. It is as if there exists a nomadic army dedicated to acquiring the reject of others, ready to swoop in on a moment’s notice.

Case in point: For years I had a chunk of rusted, twisted steel sitting next to my garage. I finally overcame my ennui about the thing and hauled it curbside. No sooner had I turned my back than a pickup appeared. The driver hopped out and, in a tone of disbelief suggesting I had discarded the Hope Diamond, asked, “You getting rid of this?” When I nodded, he hoisted it, yelled a brisk “Thanks!” over his shoulder, and roared off.

Maine, then, is truly the land of the free. That one word is the catalyst for enthusiastic community assistance in one’s housecleaning.

A couple of years back, in a fever of industry, I was able to empty my garage of a door, two bald tires, a torn tarp, a roll of chicken wire, a rake with a broken handle, a lobster crate, and half a sack of concrete. I placed them by the street, and the gleaners began to swarm.

One woman (who took the concrete) even glanced at my garage and asked, “Got anything else in there?”

These freedom fighters actually comprise a number of subcultures. There are the rovers I’ve spoken about, who pick things up on the fly. Then there are the dumpster divers who cruise the trash bins outside the dormitories at the nearby University of Maine at semester’s end. (One of our neighbors is a member of this tribe: She has presented my son with a working electric scooter, a pair of like-new Nike sneakers, and a set of fine drafting tools.) The third group is represented by the dump prospectors—those who scour the town dump for overlooked gems, some of which are difficult to overlook, such as the sailboat (with trailer!) someone had unloaded there.