Trina Machcek: Awful and trash

A friend and I were sitting out in the afternoon sunshine recently just talking and the subject of names came up. She asked me if I had had kids, did I have names picked out? Well, yes, yes I did. I always thought a grand name for a boy would be Did. I got “that” look from her. You know like I had just grown a horn out of my forehead. She was speechless. So I said, “Can’t you just hear me asking the poor little guy, ‘Well, Did? Did you do it?’ Or did someone not named ‘Did’ actually do it?’” She gave a nervous laugh and just shook her head at me. Something I get a lot from people. Huh? Maybe it’s me. Naw. Anyway. Probably a good thing I didn’t have a little “Did.”

Names are such a big part of perception. Like the Awful-Awful. In Northern Nevada, there is a place that serves a wonderful, least I say a super-duper, heart-stopping wonderful burger and it is called the Awful-Awful. It has been produced for more than 50 years. It’s one of those things that you could say, “If I had a nickel for every Awful-Awful ever served, I would be a millionaire many times over.” That is how good this taste treat is and has been marketed and sold over the years and decades. But in the end, it truly is just a hamburger. Well, yes, it is but! Yes, a greasy, “but.” But it has gained popularity and a following with its unique name, The Awful-Awful. I am not one to volunteer to go to dinner when it is announced that we were going to go get something awful-awful. But the Awful-Awful has done awfully well for having a name like Awful-Awful.

What of trash? Trash or treasure is also perception. In the past year and a half, I have thrown away trash that I am sure would have been considered treasures — in the right hands. I have also been on the receiving end of going out when the pickup came home from the trash pit (when it was a trash pit, but now it is the county landfill). There were times when the trip to the dump was more of a treasure hunt than a weekly or monthly jaunt to just dump the barrels we used to put our trash in to escort all things trashy to its final resting place, the trash pit of days gone by. But more than just the trash of trash barrels, there are treasures within everyone’s home that are hiding just waiting to be discovered. Like this...

I was hanging a new print of a picture I took and a grand friend worked magic on it and enlarged it and even framed it. She is a bright star I keep in my pocket. But shining on. I had the nail for the wall. I had my trusty hammer — that’s my hammer. Not for sale, rent or borrow. Lost too many hammers to the sound of a voice as the back door slammed, “I need this outside and will bring it right back in...” Right, right, sure, sure.

So, in my quest to hang this picture, I needed something on the back of the picture. One of those saw tooth picture hanger thingies. I know my home. I knew there was at least one of those in a drawer, box or bag that I could use. So the hunt was on. I started in the “activity” room where all things like that would be. I pulled out the far left drawer under the workbench where I knew it should be. I began to dig. And dig. And dig. Three hours and 22 minutes later, I found one. Just one. One was all I needed. But in my treasure hunt, I cleaned out the drawer... aarrgghh.

I cleaned out the drawer all right. The problem is that all the treasures that were in the drawer are now up on the work bench. Lined up in piles of wonderful goodies that will take the rest of my life to use and the life of the next guy who gets to go through this treasure trove of what some people might perceive as trash.

The point here is that a name, Did or Dawson. A sandwich, Awful-Awful or Double Baconator. Drawers filled to overflowing of Trash or Treasures. Enjoy all the roads put in front of you. They all lead somewhere amazing.

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Find her on Facebook, Instagram or at Really!


Use the comment form below to begin a discussion about this content.

Sign in to comment