As you are about to discover, I really do not rant over everything ?????? Sometimes I like to remember the day, or as my son used to say "When stuff was in black and white", I have been writing a book for almost 10 years now called Hubba Hubba, Growing up in the Bronx. It will probably never ever be completed, but when I do sit to write a chapter, it really gives me a kick. Maybe it's just for me, and maybe nobody else really gives a CRaP, but I don't care.
Growing up in an apartment building in the Bronx and living most of my life in apartments, I have seen the many ways of disposing of garbage. There used to be incinerators, chutes, cans in the halls, and one of the oldest and probably the best way to dispose of garbage......The Dumbwaiter. I am going to take my dumwaiter tale from my book (that sounds nice) and put it right below.
The Dumbwaiter (from Hubba Hubba)
NOW. How did you get rid of the garbage? The incinerator, the garbage room, the glad bags???? Give up???? The Dumbwaiter…No dummy, not someone who forgot your order this evening when you were out, but The Real Dumbwaiter. (spelled both ways )
A Dumbwaiter was a thing of beauty. A thing advanced for its time. A futuristic way of collecting garbage. A totally unbelievable way of getting rid of your garbage. Are you convinced yet? I will now fill you in on this wonderful invention of the past. Picture an area in the kitchen, or hallway will a small door about three feet off the floor, about 3 feet wide, and about four foot high. It had a small handle, and about 5 PM each day, a bell of some sort would ring near that door. That was your key to open the dumbwaiter, and look into a shaft with 2 big rope pulleys that were attached to what looked like 2 enclosed shelves in that opening. Now picture most apartment buildings were 6 stories and the super was standing in the basement. Now, when the buzzer buzzed, or the bell rang, you only hoped that your mother was not there so you could do the garbage yourself. Naturally, your father was still at work. Now, if you mother were there, she would open the door, and look to see if the shelves were straight ahead. If not, she would stick her head in the opening and look either up or down the shaft. She would then yell down to the Super… A little higher, or a little lower. Naturally, there were no lights inside the area, and the super had to pretty well judge the distance by himself. When is got close, she would yell down…OK hold it. She would then get the garbage that was only in a paper bag, and place it on the shelf. Then she would once again yell down to the super…. OK. The fun was then over and she would then lock the door to the shaft. BUT, if you were lucky enough to have your mother in another room, or out for a while when the buzzer buzzed, you were in luck. Why you may ask??? Because you were in control. You could open the door. You could yell down to the super “A little higher”, Then “A little lower”, knowing good and well that you were lying every second and were going to drive the super crazy until he finally got the dumbwaiter in the right position. Your dream was to make him work for what you thought would be an hour. Unfortunately, your mother would hear the yelling no matter where she was, and put an end to it one, two, and three. It usually meant some severe punishment, but it was always worth it. Sometimes if you got really lucky, you were able to drop something off the dumbwaiter hoping it would hit the super. That never happened and growing up I was convinced that every super went to a special dumbwaiter ducking school and they all passed with flying colors. Another common trick all the kids tried was to spill a glass of water down the shaft while the dumbwaiter was on a floor or two higher. Naturally, the kids on the high floors never had that opportunity.
So that is my little tale of Dumwaiters and what is was like growing up in Black and White.
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