Garage Sale Days

Yesterday Joe and I had a garage sale, augmented by stuff my brother and his girlfriend brought over. I love visiting garage sales, though I feel that garage sales in the San Francisco Bay Area don't compare at all to those elsewhere. Especially those here in my tiny urban hamlet, where a fold-up card table covered with a lean assortment of chipped glassware and dog-eared paperbacks somehow qualifies in homeowners' minds as a garage sale. Perhpas because houses are smaller here, with tiny garages and no basements, it's harder to accumulate the stuff that makes a good garage sale great.

Our sale could have had better offerings, but we had some clothing (all in good condition), kitchenware, bedding and linens, and a scattering of toys. Plus a cooler, a suitcase, and a tent. Joe and I raised $26.25, while my brother and his girlfriend made $19.05. We all sold out stuff for super-cheap, too. I figured we'd make at least $40 each, but the main point was to get rid of stuff, not make bank. I gave a lot of stuff away. People try to bargain on the strangest stuff, too. This guy talked us down to $1.50 on a huge, very functional cooler. We wanted $2.00, but he said he wouldn't pay that. Fine--it's mosr important to get rid of it, and no one else had even looked at it the whole day.

Speaking of, we had probably a grand total of 25 visitors. Lame. The day started out grey and cool, but once the sun came out around lunchtime, our passersby vanished. Now we have a garage full of crap to donate to the thrift store, a task that must wait until Tuesday because of Labor Day. I hope our junk finds new homes and appreciative owners one way or another. I remember days when the need for a microwave, a set of dishes, or a dishrack was desperate...but here we are now, liquidating it. Ownership society my ass. We define ourselves by what we do, not what we have. At least in my society.