Cool closet doors for possible layout?

[doctorwayne]

Here in Northern California (Stockton) we have what I call "okie Trash Day" about once or twice a year. i live in an apartment, so I don't have to deal with it, but you can usually spot mostly rednecks in old pickups running around the neighborhood looking for treasures, and though I joke about it, more power to 'em. Like the good Doc, I'd much rather see someone get some further use out of an item that someone paid good money for originally. However, aside from Okie trash day, if you try to put something like an old appliance out for sale here, if you put a sign on it saying "free", it'll sit. So you have to put a sign on it saying "$20" or something small like that to get someone to just pick it up and take off with it. Sign of the times around here I guess.... *sigh*

We used to have a similar bi-annual pick-up (and I liked it much better). They'd pick up just about anything unless the curb crawlers beat 'em to it. However, the week of these collections was a real event, and you'd see the full-time scavengers working right alongside some pretty-posh individuals driving very expensive cars - no one was embarrassed or looked down upon. I used to go out picking up firewood, as anybody who had cut down a tree in their backyard wasn't permitted to put it curbside other than those two days.
One year I had to re-single my garage, a fairly good-sized building over 125 years old. It was the equivalent of a two car garage, with an upstairs, plus a rear addition about 15'x25', which I sometimes use as a workshop. At one time, it had been a house. Well, some of the roof deck needed to be replaced too, so we had to strip the entire roof of shingles, all five layers worth. The bottom one was was cedar shingles.
Now, scrap building materials cannot be put in the garbage here - you either rent a dumpster bin or take the stuff to the landfill yourself, where you pay to get rid of it. Well, when "big pick-up day" arrived, I had 20 banana boxes at the curb, each with a section of newspaper immediately under the box lid, blocking the view of the contents. Another twenty boxes made the trip across town to my father-in-law's place, too. (Twenty boxes were the cubic equivalent of material allowed per household.) A couple of people stopped to check out what might be in the boxes, but, for some reason, weren't interested when they looked. The following pick-up, another twenty boxes waited at the curb, with another twenty at the other end of town. After the third collection, the final forty boxes were gone.

Wayne