Windfall

Last weekend we celebrated National Ice Cream Cake Day--or, if you like, Wyatt's third birthday.

Jason wore this shirt, which didn't seem entirely appropriate.

I love this shirt of his, not only for the amusingly ironic photo ops, but because it represents the resolution of a long-standing conundrum.  

Living next to the park, as we do, we witness a lot of abandoned stuff.  And sometimes we see the same abandoned items sitting day after day after day.  And sometimes the abandoned items are desirable--sweatshirts, basketballs, what have you.

And any reasonable person has to wonder:  how long can something sit unattended in public until it becomes the licit property of whoever picks it up?


In other words, mine?

So finally, in a fit of late-night desperation for an answer to this ethical quandary, I emailed the town's public works director.  The next morning, I got a long, courteous email reply that made me suspect someone was delighted that a townsperson actually sent him an email or was aware of his existence.

The long and the short of it is, town maintenance clears the park of debris on Mondays and Fridays, and everything not highly valuable is thrown away.


Wherefore, I conclude that the park is our source of free goods and gear every Sunday and Thursday.


And our first prize is this marvelously ironic shirt.