I loved trash day when I was a kid. Once a week the block-long driveway in the back became like another world where lots of stuff was somewhat neatly assembled at each house and essentially free for the taking. Trash-picking is so ur-recycling and the whole communal process was like some proto modern art installation/performance. And then the big truck came and gobbled everything up--a true finale. And then it was like suddenly all quiet (until next week).
the sequel: What a Dump!
What are architects immediately critical of when entering a building?
I just finished writing a novel where 20% of the world's population employs an architect--after cell phones, i-pads, etc., architects have become the must-have life accessory--most consult their architects on a daily basis. Then, of course, the competition among architects is fierce, thus the book is like The Gong Show meets Fantasy Island.