Tony Carillo:  One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

Apparently, many people consider that a metaphor. I always thought it referred to one of my favorite pastimes: digging through dumpsters, looking for perfectly usable stuff. I learned the practice from my grandfather, who still wears a pair of shoes he found in a junkyard in 1949 and a hat he found in the ocean.

The alley behind my house is like a mall of free merchandise – old desks, lamps, bikes without tires, tires without bikes, picture frames, sports equipment, all just a roll of duct tape away from being back in working order.

When I saw new carpet being delivered to one of my neighbors one morning, I knew it was time to snap into action. My motto is, “When the neighbors get something new, I get something new.” Dragging the giant roll of heavy (and for some reason, damp) old carpet through the alley to my house was no easy task, but when I unrolled it out on the lawn to dry, I knew it was worth the effort. In fact, I was so impressed by the look of a carpeted backyard, I decided to nail it down.

I spent the rest of the day collecting items for my yard. I found a couch that someone had thrown out because an arm had broken off of one side. It became my chaise lounge. I used the broken arm from the couch and a handful of nails to repair a coffee table that was missing a leg. My yard-room was really coming together.

By that evening, I had run an extension cord out to the yard to power a miniature TV that had a bullet hole in one corner of the screen, but was otherwise perfectly usable. Beside that was an ice chest with a crack in the lid, which I had filled full of tasty (store-bought) beverages. I spent some time working out on my new exercise bike. The handlebars were missing, which allowed me to work on my balance as well as cardio. As much as I loved my yard-room, it was missing something. I wasn’t sure what that something was, but I figured I would know it when I saw it.

While relaxing on my outdoor couch, I noticed the sound of power tools coming from a few doors down. Investigating further, I saw some men dumping boards and broken drywall into the alley. One of my neighbors was having some remodeling done. That’s when it hit me: My room needed walls and a ceiling! Everything I would need to get it done was currently piling up just a short distance away. While I waited for the workers to finish, I drew up some blueprints on the back of a Wendy’s wrapper.

When the workers took their lunch break I quickly snagged a few boards to begin building a frame. The only tools I had in my toolbox were a hammer and about fifteen of those little L-shaped wrenches that come with Ikea furniture. After a half hour or so I had managed to nail together a small structure that had the appearance and stability of a baby deer. Suddenly there was a knock at my back gate. I opened the gate and found all six of the burly construction workers standing in the alley. They informed me that some of the lumber they were using on their project had gone missing, and they had followed the sound of hammering hoping to find out what had happened. While I struggled to come up with an answer, one of them glanced into my yard and asked, “What are you doing back here?”

I let them in the gate to show them around. They seemed genuinely impressed with my yard-room idea. I gave them a few drinks from the cooler, and I told them about my plans for building the walls and ceiling. They were kind enough to give me a few suggestions. Then we all watched Tremors on my mostly broken television.

I had a great time with my new friends, but after hearing how much work goes into putting up walls, I gave up on the idea. After a few weeks, weeds started sprouting in the carpet, and I decided it was time to dismantle the yard-room. I cut up the carpet into big squares and put them into my pick-up truck for a trip to the dump. Then I loaded the couch on top. I was very tired from all the work, so I sat down on the couch for a quick break.

“Hmm… pretty comfy up here.” I thought. “What did I do with that cooler?”