Thursday, 2:48pm: United States Post Office, Hampden Branch

Today, I promised that Put That Wherever would return and damn if Baltimore didn't immediately provide. She always provides.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is an ALMOST empty gallon of 2% milk sitting casually near the door of our local post office. Somebody, somewhere in Hampden, was like, "You know what I could go for on this hot ass sunny day? A cold gallon of 2%." I would like to stress that this particular brand of milk can only be purchased at your local Wal-Mart. So some dude didn't just roll into a Sleven or ROFO for his cool gallon, but rather, pulled this from a fridge in a Wal-Mart, like, 7 miles away, and was like, "Oh yeah. You's is gettin' drank." NO. This is an inappropriate amount of milk to drink on a June day in Baltimore, or EVER, ANYWHERE. Now, I know what you all are thinking. You are thinking, "What about the key?!" Yes, the key. I'm going with the theory that these items have completely separate stories and have, through Baltimore Trail Magic, found their way to each other, for us.

God bless the peoples of Charm City just putting that almost drank gallon of 2% milk right there, next to that tiny key.

Monday, 7:12pm: Mid-Town Manhattan, New York

Friends, in the summer I took a brief trip to New York. Lucky for me, New Yorkers, like their counterparts in Baltimore, also find satisfaction in leaving nonsense wherever.  This person, whose injury was I guess healed, saw the words "drop-off", and hastily said, "don't mind if I do".  They ripped the brace from their leg, pulling strap-by-large-velcro-strap, and continued happily down the sidewalk knowing that they had deposited the brace in the appropriate "drop-off" area.  You know, the drop-off area, the one in front of the laundromat, where you put your stuff wherever.  

Sunday, 8:13am: Mt. Royal & Calvert St.

I found this lovely wonder on a perfect Sunday morning, while walking the dog. Coming back inside, the boyfriend and I discussed why such a thing would be left on the sidewalk so early. My guess: onion omelet brunch at a friends house. And I can only hope that there was someone out there saying, "Shit! I lost the half bag of chopped red onion!" Then they sadly proceeded making the omelets, onion-less, because grocery stores round our way don't open until 10 a.m. on Sunday.  Bummer. So, sorry early morning omelet maker, sorry you dropped your half bag of chopped onion wherever.  I hope your day improved or you at least found some mushrooms or peppers or something to substitute. 

Tuesday, 6:00pm: The Fallsway: HISTORIC EDITION

It's no secret that I spend a great deal of my life going up and down the Fallsway.  What is a secret is my fascination of our great city's sewer system.  Citizens, the Jones Falls helped make this city what it is. Hell, part of our humble beginnings used to be called 'Jones' Town'. But the majesty of the river that provided fresh water and ran openly through our streets ended when the old-timey-time citizens and old-timey-time mills turned it into a wretched open sewer causing a massive public health emergency round about the time of the Great Fire. Go figure. So, from the late 1800's into the early 1900's, we buried the fucker. Piped it up so she could not only have a chance to clean herself up but so future citizens would be prevented from using it as a literal shit hole. In 1915, the project was done. The river was removed from view and the people rejoiced at our modern accomplishments. BUT WAIT...what's this? For weeks after each heavy rain the Jones Falls peeks out of the grates on the Fallsway.  I grin every time I bike by and see her, reaching up her watery fingers from her cast iron prison to the asphalt. I think of the future when the cities are gone and Baltimore once again, much like Brad Pitt, has a river that runs through it.  So do your worst public servants!  Try and protect the population from themselves by putting those pipes wherever.  Just remember, she's gonna keep working to escape and you're gonna have to be there to re-contain her. 

                       

Wednesday, 8:14am: Guilford & Read St.

Baltimore, you should know that though I love you, I am a Steelers fan.  I know, I know . . . "boooo....hissss....how can you be a Steelers fan?  You live in Baltimore!" et cetera, et cetera.  It's a story that I have told a hundred times to a thousand people and will tell again if you ask nicely.  That all said, say what you will about the Steelers (even though they are champions and a class organization), you would never find one of their jerseys in a newly planted Redbud tree on Guilford Avenue on the walk to work, no sir.  That would be nonsense. Put that hate energy where it truly belongs Baltimore, in the D.C. suburbs.  And while you're at it, take that Redskins jersey and throw it up in that tree wherever.  

Friday, 7:34am: Somewhere Near My Buddy, Rob's, House, Mt. Vernon

My co-worker, and dare I say, friend, sent this my way on our commute to the museum today.  His reaction via text was something like, "Wow, I have the Baltimore City Paper!  To hell with the Internet!" I then imagined this person of his excitedly marching home, ripping his computer away from the desk, walking back to this City Paper box, and slamming that thing on top all in one grand gesture.  "No more Internet for me world! I have the truth in print!" Alas, the very idea of this is nonsense (as she types her blog post on her ipad). The reality? The reality is some MICA kid got a brand new Mac for their Green Design class and just couldn't bare to have this monstrosity sitting by the door of their studio apartment any longer. I mean, recycling pick up is like totally four days away. Good job student citizen.  Just put your unwanted computer parts wherever. I'm sure another MICA type will use 'em for their ironic trash-based art and we will all hate it, ironically. 

Friday, Dusk: Somewhere Near the Red Star, Fell's Point

Oh, Baltimore, it's been a while since you've provided me a piece of well placed nonsense to blog about but I knew it was only a matter of time. You just can't resist gently whispering into the ears of your citizens, "Hey, just put that wherever. Yeah, right there on the corner of that street where the wheelchairs cross." The gem below was offered up by our newest friend, Melissa, and is more than worthy. Now, what we're working with here is a real chicken and egg situation. Was the doll left, unloved, next to the shit bag? Or was the owner of the shit bag like, "F walking over to that trash can, I'm putting this shit by this doll." OR were they placed there together, at the same time?! We will never know, Baltimore. And once again, through the help of your magical population, you weave us mysteries that shall never be solved and we will continue to love you for it.

Tuesday, Sometime in the Afternoon: Little Corn Island, Nicaragua:INTERNATIONAL ADDITION

Trash would be a very easy subject for "putting that wherever". I try very hard to avoid the topic because we are all aware that Baltimore has lots of trash in it and people put it just wherever. All of the time.  Every city has this problem.  If a city doesn't have this problem it's because they are either a) not a city or b) in Northern California. That said, never have I ever fully recognized the awfulness of human waste (I mean, I recycle, and watch documentories on PBS about the Eastern Pacific Garbage Patch, and listen to NPR, and call 311 out of concern for the community) until we recently visited Nicaragua.  Sure, trash was everywhere in the cities.  Tons of trash, burning in vast wastelands inbetween stretches of dry jungle. This is expected in a developing nation. But on Little Corn Island, miles and miles off of the coast of the mainland with a population of 1,200, the trash still found us.  Piles and piles of it. And all of it plastic. There were points on the island, a little ways away from things, where you'd find a treasure trove of colors and shapes tangled with seaweed and driftwood.  Tubes, bottles, and once full containers of things that are alien to the Little Corn paradise. The picture below barely does it justice.  So this is your public service announcment B-more:  DO NOT PUT THAT TRASH WHEREVER. That shit is going to wind up on a tropical jam-land where some awesome island people, who just want to surf, eat coconuts, and make you pico de gallo, are going to have to clean it up. And to my good friend, Penator: You win.

Sunday, 9:16pm: The Avenue, Hampden

Two Sundays ago the Baltimore Ravens defeated the Indianapolis Colts in the AFC Wildcard Championship.  Even as a Steelers fan, I am happy for my city and its success.  However, it seems that Ravens fans are consistantly unable to be happy for themselves.  If they win, it wasn't a good win.  If a player does something well, another player is undoubtedly doing something stupid.  They kick a field goal?  Well, they should have got the touch down. And so it goes in Baltimore.  A city that has trouble accepting wins even when they are self-serving.  This trash can is a wonderful signifyer of this.  The Ravens win the wildcard game and the fans push what was a bolted down trash can into the Avenue.  So keep creating jobs Ravens fans; punch each other in the face to give the cops something to do, tear things up for the city to repair, and by all means don't forget to put that trash can, and its contents, just wherever in the middle of a main street.  It's fine.  Even when you're winning. 

Sunday, 3:32pm: Martin's Grocery Store, LaVale, MD: SPECIAL HOLIDAY EDITION

The American grocery store. Home of club card tilapia, year-long supplies of strawberries, and of course, the salad bar complete with hard boiled eggs and blue cheese crumbles. After picking up our family-size trays of steamed shrimp, finish-in-three-bite sandwiches, and shipped-from-Chile mixed fruit arrangement, Jaime Sawyers and I witnessed this beauty: The I-Wanted-A-Specific-Kind-Of-Salad-So-Much-That-I-Worked-To-Put-It-Together-Myself-But-Fuck-It-I-Changed-My-Mind-I'm-Putting-It-Wherever Salad. Dear, sweet, suburban, grocery store goer, just leave that incredibly perishable item that can't be re-sold wherever.  Oh yeah, and while you're at it don't forget your 50 piece box of frozen jalepeno popppers that you know you're going to eat for lunch instead.

Thursday, 6:24pm: The Guilford Bridge, Again

After the discovery of the first medical waste pile, a good friend explained that catheters are often stolen from hospitals and clinics in order to collect clean pee for drug testing. What!? I didn't fully buy this explanation until I was walking Shambles on the bridge last Thursday, and there it was, on the opposite side of the bridge from the original pile, another couple of catheters and a pile of gauze discarded at the wooden foot of a road work sign. So friends, if you need clean pee for the next meeting with your parole officer I have an inside line on some unused catheters. In the meantime, just put them wherever crooked clinic employees. We'll be sure to keep an eye on them while you're away.

Friday, 4:55pm: The Fallsway & Chase St.

Hey Baltimore. Tell the people what we do with our books. "We just put them wherever!" Baltimore, that's exactly right. I have to say, if you're gonna just put a book wherever, make sure it's a vintage children's book about a boy named Billy and the horse that he loved. Also make sure you leave it wide open in the middle of a bike path to the page containing a precious old timey drawing of Billy and that horse. I mean, really go hard on the emotion. What's the point of just throwing any ole' book wherever if it doesn't make a few hipster bike commuters shed a single, nostalgic tear for urban literacy.

Thursday, 5:47pm: The Inner Harbor Barnes and Noble

In Baltimore, "just putting that right there" is not simply limited to streets and trash. No, sir. There are times when the phrase "put that wherever" can make a truly grand statement. I was purusing the international map section in B&N, and not seeing anything that would help for (surprise) Nicaragua I began to turn away. Then, there it was, blended in with maps of Mexico and Mexico City: New Mexico. I whispered a, "no way..." as I pulled back the map in front to find several more crisp New Mexico maps behind it. So, Barnes and Noble employee, have at it. Create the People's Republic of New Mexico and just put those maps wherever in that international section. Hell, mix it up even, give those Quebec maps something to worry about.

Wednesday, 5:57pm: Halethorpe MARC Station Parking Lot

I'd like to first give a shout out to my dearest, Emma Conner, for sharing this lovely bit with me today. It's a classic, the ole' underwear on the street trick. Baltimore, I am eternally amazed at the amount of clothing on your streets, sidewalks, alleys, and yes, children's museum floors. Some events leading up to these lost goods are obvious but others, well, they confound. Usually, I could guess how a pair a men's panties found their way onto an ill-lit parking lot, but the MARC station during rush hour? Nice. Stay classy B-more and hey, if you find yourself uncomfortable in those undies you chose to wear to work, just take them off and put them wherever. Yeah, right there. Next to my friends car.

Last Friday, 4pm: The Guilford Bridge

This is a special post that some of you are lucky enough to already be familiar with. Last week, Seth and I were walking along the Guilford bridge after a lovely afternoon spent in the Greenmount Cemetery. We were lucky enough to stumble upon this pile of treasure. I did my civic duty and called 311. The woman on the call said dutifully, "this issue will be resolved in 3-7 days" (to be fair, she did seem surprised when I explained that there was a pile of medical waste on Guilford Ave.). I am pleased to report that it took more than three but less than 7 days to clean it up. So go on crazy runaway medical patient, just put that used catheter bag wherever. Baltimore will be sure to get to it in 3-7 business days.

Tuesday, 12:30pm: Mt. Royal Avenue

Nothing says Bmore like a can of Natty Boh....on a fence. Hey man, just stick that can upside down right there.

Sunday, 5:30pm: The Fallsway

Biking home after work on the Fallsway.  Just put that toilet paper wherever, it's cool.