Saturday, June 7, 2008

Garage Sale

"One mans trash is another mans treasure." Never does that hold more true than in the world of Garage Sales. I have never been a person that often stops at Yard Sales, or Garage Sales or whatever they are called, although a friend tried to get me interested several years ago. And also I usually do not hold garage sales of my own very often because I tend to be a bit of a pack rat and reluctant to part with anything that I own.
So if both these facts are true what am I doing outside in my front yard at six am setting up tables and trying to arrange items in an appealing manor? I am not too sure myself, my mind refuses to wake up fully until the sun has been up for a few more hours at least. Last night I had no plans to start on this misadventure but the signs that had been posted for the last two weeks that there was a neighborhood sale this weekend had Jim all excited and gung ho to make a few extra buck. So the plan was hatched with his brother Randy that we would join in and the late evening was spent gathering items together. Randy is an inveterate junker and flea market or yard sale veteran and has a rented garage space just to hold all his accumulation of "merchandise". While I scoured the house for any items I thought I could bear to part with, Jim and Randy brought repeated carloads of junk (whoops, I mean merchandise) from the garage along with a plethora of card tables to display it all on.
With promises that everyone would be getting up early to get everything ready for the start of the sale at 8 am we retired for the evening. The next morning I am the only one that gets up early and Jim barely takes my stack of stuff out to the yard before he leaves for work with Randy driving him. So here I stand in the early morning sunshine surrounded by boxes and bins of Randy's merchandise and my meager contributions. Having no idea what Randy wants to do with all that stuff I appropriate one of his tables and set my stuff on it. While doing this it occurs to me that the only stuff that is being sold from our house is mine. Where is Jim's contribution to this endeavor? It was his idea, so why am I parting with some of my prize possessions while all his junk remains in the house? I am starting to get just a little hot under the collar, or it could be the fact that already at 7:30 am the temperature is heading rapidly towards ninety. Half an hour till the mountain of stuff of Randy's is to be arranged on the tables, etc and no sign of Randy at all. The early drive by lookie lous are already cruising by. I look around the neighborhood, where are all the other participants in this insanity. I only spot one other family setting up near the curve in the road.
I guess it is going to be a very small neighborhood today! Finally just before eight o'clock two things happen, Randy returns and starts whirling around the front yard, muttering about having to get things ready. Newspaper begins to fly across the yard as he furiously starts to unpack. Also at about the same time the neighbor strolls out of his house and after sitting at his table for a few minutes he is joined by his children and their contributions to the yard sale begins to come out of hiding. So now we are three!!

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