You walk past a trash can on the corner and it is overflowing. The trash can is the biography of the block. You can read a neighborhood by its garbage. Coffee cups mean the block wakes up early. Beer bottles mean the block stays up late. Pizza boxes mean the block is alive. An empty trash can is a block where nobody lives anymore. The trash can is the most honest census in New York. It counts everybody by what they throw away.

You have heard a kid banging on a trash can with a stick. That sound. That hollow metal boom that echoes off the buildings and turns the whole block into a drum circle. The trash can is the first drum kit. Before the snare drum there was a trash can lid. Before the kick drum there was a trash can turned upside down. I heard a kid on Avenue C play a trash can like Buddy Rich played a Ludwig and the kid did not know who Buddy Rich was and that is exactly the point. The trash can does not require a lesson. The trash can only requires a stick and the nerve to make noise.

You know what a trash can smells like in August. That smell is the city being honest about itself. The city puts on cologne all winter and in August the cologne wears off. The trash can in August is New York without the marketing. The trash can does not have a publicist. The trash can does not have a brand. The trash can is the only thing in the city that tells you the truth about what happened last night.

You have seen the man who goes through the trash cans at night. He is looking for cans. Five cents a can. He is the most efficient recycler in the city and nobody gave him a grant. Nobody gave him a title. Nobody put him on a panel about sustainability. He has a shopping cart and a system and he knows which blocks have the good cans and which blocks have nothing. He is doing the work the city should be doing and the city pretends he does not exist. The man with the shopping cart is the most honest environmentalist in New York.

You notice the new trash cans. The ones with the small openings designed so you cannot put a bag in them. The city redesigned the trash can to keep people out of it. The old trash can had a wide mouth. The old trash can accepted everything. The old trash can did not judge what you were throwing away or who was picking it up. The new trash can has opinions. The new trash can decides what fits. The city took the most democratic object on the street and gave it a dress code.