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That's a shame. Dump picking is almost an American tradition. One man's garbage is another man's gold. I remember in the late 70's early 80's working summers for AH Crowell in West Dennis, I couldn't wait to get to the dump to see what treasures awaited; bikes, a bug zapper, lawn mowers, Playboys, lawn chairs, a stuffed camal for the truck, etc., you name it we picked it. Even if I had no use for it I felt compelled to take it, of course I caught crap from Mom for bringing it home, but what the heck. Now my kids make fun of me if I slam on the brakes by a pile of stuff someone is throwing out on "junk day". But I guess that's why it's called garbage picking, huh? Same idea. I live for picking.
I remember the guys who ran the dump used to have a garden where the honey wagons had dumped the previous year. Mostly tomatoes and squash...very healthy tomatoes and squash.
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