The other day a plant of mine died (Josh? A dead plant? Yes, knowing me that's not hard to believe), and I decided it deserved a proper burial. So I wrapped it in the Garden section of the the sunday Trib (Do ya see the irony? Do ya see?), put it into a shoebox, and then took it down to the dumpster to, well, get rid of it. I stood there, holding the box over the dumpster, and I felt it only appropriate to say a few words of remembering towards the plant. It was at this point that another guy who lives in my building came out to throw out of bag of trash and, noticing me talking to a shoebox I was about to throw into a dumpster, gave me an odd look. Perhaps I should move.