Surviving a Collision with a Garbage Truck

Mitch Arnold • June 29, 2025

I got hit by a garbage truck the other day, but was able to recover quickly, because it wasn’t the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last.


It’s an unfortunate reality that everyone will occasionally run into a garbage truck through no fault of their own. (see ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck” below)


One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches!

The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!’ This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’

He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it! Sometimes they’ll dump it on you. Don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.

The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day.


The garbage truck in my latest collision was a prospect who I had never talked to, before picking up the phone and calling him about a position I was helping a client fill. Within seconds of introducing myself, his aggressive tone began to dominate. He demanded that I tell him who my client was and how much they were going to pay. I assured him that I would answer those questions once we determined that his background was a good fit and that he was interested in learning more. Finally, I offered to arrange a call at his convenience, when we could discuss the opportunity further.


We never got to that point. After sending him some information on the opportunity, he repeated his earlier demands, this time through text messaging. In our exchange, I was able to determine that his background wasn’t a fit, so I thanked him for his time and asked if he could confidentially refer anyone. He responded by calling me a “god-awful recruiter.”


I know that I’m a pretty good recruiter, and was fairly certain that he was a miserable person (garbage truck), but I held off on sharing those opinions with him. Instead, I just backed away, recalling “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” I wasn’t going to spend any more mental energy on him than I already had, and I surely wasn’t going to dump his garbage on someone else.


Furthermore, I knew that my faith in humanity would soon be restored when I visited the gym over the lunch hour for my daily workout. Knowing that there are already too many garbage trucks wandering around out there, I try to be just the opposite, and the gym gives me a place to put that effort into practice.


Because I appreciate friendly, positive people, I try to be one myself. I attempt to learn the names of the people I routinely see, like the front desk people, custodian and regular members, and I try to make connections with those who are receptive. And, I try to do that all with a smile, regardless of how I feel, even if I’m still stinging from a garbage truck collision.


Per usual, the gym atmosphere didn’t disappoint. I exchanged pleasantries with people who expect me to be there at the same time almost every day, and enjoyed conversations that completely erased the garbage truck from my memory.


Getting older has taught me that kindness pays dividends, and that even when it can’t save you from garbage truck collisions, it can certainly make them easier to recover from. Take the time to create a refuge of kindness that you can rely on when something like a garbage truck threatens to ruin your day. It’s worth the effort.

Cherish Your Memories and Applaud the Success of Others

By Mitch Arnold • September 27, 2026
Recently, one of my friends completed a hike of the Appalachian Trail, 2198 miles of mountain paths from Georgia to Maine. He hiked almost continuously from March 31 to September 17, wearing the shoes of his son who passed away unexpectedly late last year. Not only is my friend an intensely driven and passionate individual, he is also a talented photographer who has crafted a career around his art. He used that talent to document his journey, capturing views that most eyes will never see and small wonders that most would miss. As I followed his adventures online, I felt wonder and awe, as well as gratitude that I could witness something that I will never see in person. Life is like that. Few of us will ever do everything we want to do, and we’ll watch from the sidelines as others enjoy something that we can only dream of. The trick is to do that without jealousy and envy, which are the thieves of gratitude and peace, and it’s something that I occasionally struggle with. Sometimes it seems that almost everywhere I look I am reminded of things beyond my reach. From my social media feeds to the walls in my house, reminders of dreams cut short threaten to haunt me, if I let them. With the help of some enthusiastic friends and the patience of an accommodating wife, I enjoyed several good years of pursuing my passion for hunting. Before my disability took that away from me, I was blessed to hunt in Africa and Canada, as well as many amazing places in the United States. The trophies that hang on my wall fill me with memories that I am thankful to have, but there are also blank spots that I had envisioned filling with more trophies. They remind me that I can no longer hunt like that. My social media feeds reinforce that frustration. Not only do I see friends enjoying their hunts and outfitters with whom I have hunted guiding smiling clients to their dreams, I am also a member of several online communities who share the same passion. There, I see trophy rooms that I dreamed of having and hunts I dreamed of experiencing. Where I once looked for inspiration and ideas, I now see a fantasy world. Then, there are the travel posts, like my friend’s trek on the Appalachian Trail. I see people standing on mountain tops, rafting on rivers and exploring the coastline of Greece – all things that I wish that I could do. Sadly, that world no longer exists for me, and that makes it all the more important that I be grateful for what I have and rejoice in the successes of others. I am learning to look past the blank spots on my walls and instead focus on the trophies that I am very fortunate to have. Why spend time and emotion on what I don’t have when I can appreciate all that I do have? Likewise, why waste energy on jealousy and envy when I can look with wonder and awe on the experiences of others?  No matter who you are, what you have and what you have been blessed to experience, there is someone who would like to walk in your shoes, if only occasionally, and they would be truly puzzled if you weren’t filled with gratitude. Just as important, experience as much of this life as you possibly can and share your experiences with others. Lastly, don’t torment yourself by worrying about things beyond your reach. Be thankful and rejoice in your life and the lives around you.

But, Could It Be Better?

By Mitch Arnold • July 26, 2026
When facing challenging situations, my go-to response is often “it could be worse.” It’s raining: it could be worse. We could be scooping this stuff. It’s hot outside: it could be worse. At least we have air conditioning. The “it could be worse” response is a simple and common way of putting things into perspective, summoning at least a modicum of gratitude and showing the absurdity of petty complaining. Unfortunately, it can also blind us to the potential of “it could be better.” I say it aloud frequently when I am with people, but I also mutter “it could be worse,” to myself when I am alone and struggling with my mobility. That simple phrase has brought me peace and acceptance, as I have experienced progressive physical challenges throughout most of my entire adult life. While things could definitely be worse, and I’m right to summon gratitude when negativity creeps in, I was recently reminded that sometimes things could be better, and if that’s possible, I should do everything I can to make them better. For more than 40 years, I have lifted weights five to six times per week, and that has allowed me to maintain a fairly active lifestyle, but lifting alone isn’t cutting it anymore. Despite frequent exercise, I have struggled to get around more than usual for the past year or so, and that has made my world even smaller. Despite this, I persisted with a positive attitude and told myself, “it could be worse.” Not until the discomfort and limitations began to prevent me from doing things I should be doing, like meeting friends for breakfast, did I consider the possibility that things could be better. Making sure that I realized this was my wife Lynda who had been on me to try physical therapy, since my primary physician wrote a prescription for it a year and a half ago. I resisted because, though I am positive about almost everything else, I was pessimistic about what modern medicine could do for me. I had done physical therapy as a child, and have undergone several medical procedures that did little to improve my condition and seemed to provide only frustration. How was this going to be different? But it was. After only two sessions and a daily regimen of stretching and purposeful movement over the past four weeks, plus the strength training, I have already improved my mobility. Stairs are easier and walking, less painful and troublesome. That has greatly helped my energy level, focus and confidence. Even when I fell and sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, the recovery was easier. While things could definitely be better, they could also be much worse, as they were for me a month or so ago. Had I not relented and at least considered the possibility that things could be better, I would have continued being unnecessarily limited. Are you unnecessarily limited? If you are going through a difficult period in your life – maybe your job or a relationship isn’t as fulfilling as it once was – consider the possibility that things could be better. Always lean into gratitude for what you have, but don’t let resignation obscure options for improvement.