The homeless understand it's all about lighting.

This holiday weekend, it rained free furniture on the streets of Boston.

The combination of the Labor day weekend, the end of the month, and more than 50 colleges & universities bringing their students back into town for the new term made the phenomenon happen. Starting Thursday, the 29th, perfectly good furniture started to accumulate everywhere on the streets around my apartment. People are evidently rich enough here that instead of moving their junk around, they just leave it and buy new things later. Luckily, my room mate Aral and I are not afflicted with the disease that makes us want new things. We really racked up on all sorts of things this weekend.

The big scores all came on the first day. Aral found a wonderful five-drawer dresser, all wood, very clean. And when I say the dresser was wood, I mean it was real wood, not pressboard “flat furniture” that comes in a box and that you have to put together with cruddy little allen wrenches. Nope, it was a real wooden dresser that only needed one handle fixed (very easily done), and was nice and clean. All the drawers pull out perfectly. There was nothing wrong with the thing.

Inspired by her excellent find, Aral and I went out to look around for more stuff. There were so many pieces of furniture on the sidewalks that we left many things because they were only slightly imperfect and we decided someone else would need them more than we would. My prize find was a wonderful drop-leaf table that fits into our living room like I had searched for one just so. The legs are metal and were a little rusted, but I painted them today with paint left over from decorating the living room, so it looks like the table was meant for us. It’s awesome. Aral also found two little tables for her room, and I got an excellent stand for the TV that has a shelf for the VCR and cable box so they won’t keep smashing to the floor.

While we were out looking at all the free furniture, my roommate and I were not alone. Wandering the streets were many other obvious roommate teams, as well as a few moms out looking about. The guy who had put out the drop leaf table was actually sitting on his porch talking on his telephone while Aral and I debated the merits of lugging the piece three blocks home and up two flights of stairs. He smiled and waved at us as we removed the thing, and we thanked him. It was strange. I don’t know if I can adequately describe just how much furniture was laying out that day. Piles and piles of unwanted or slightly broken couches and chaoirs and other home furnishings were everywhere.

Aral and I saw a homeless person while we were out that had five floor lamps in his shopping cart. Five floor lamps! I have no idea what he was going to do with them. We looked at a number of floor lamps ourselves, but decided that it wasn’t worth buying the special light bulb that went in them to find out if they would really work or not, and none of them were especially fancy. Somewhere, a homeless man collects change to finance all the bulbs for his five floor lamp cardboard box…

Aral also found (and this is just why I can’t believe her luck) an old fashioned butcher block on wheels that has an enameled top and open shelves underneath. I must admit I was consumed with envy when I saw it; she has turned it into her sound system, and it rolls wherever she’d like it. Our place just gets neater all the time. I can all ready tell when it comes time I’m going to have a tough go of it letting this apartment go.

I have a working modem at home again, and signed back up with Columbia House. I now own every CD that Liz Phair ever put out. Happiness is made out of free furniture, a working modem, and Liz Phair. Liz Phair, Liz Phair, Liz Phair, and also the Pixies, and a little REM mixed with Local H for the skank factor. Hooray for punk, and hooray for free furniture you can paint while listening to Liz Phair.