Garage sales were a staple of my childhood. I grew up in a solidly middle-class family, but it's safe to say both my parents were probably raised lower-middle class - maybe even poor, at times, though still happy, healthy, and safe - and my grandfather was a teen during the depression. Because of this, my father has always been on the look-out for ways to save.
He certainly wasn't a cheapskate. He just wasn't afraid of bargains. Thus, Saturday afternoon quests for summer garage sales were commonplace. My dad was always looking for hard to find tools, mom liked to refurnish and restore old furniture, and my sister and I weren't apt to turn our noses down at cheap games, books, (in my case, comic books also), and we went through this whole board game phase, too. I mean, I'm pretty sure we owned every board game known to man, even "Pac Man, the Board Game".
I kid you not.
Anyway, this persisted as we got older, and because my wife Abby grew up in a very similar home, she's a "garage saler", too. We've come across quite a few things: cheap, rickety furniture for that first apartment, later some very nice baby clothes for both Madison and Zach, toys, books, my first, (and still current) sets of tools...you name it. Plus, some of these places have community garage sales so big:
They have hot dog vendors at them. Seriously.
However, very odd things are to be found at garage sales. From today's excursion, I offer you just a taste...
First, you can't have a garage sale without beat-up VHS tapes of old 80's comedies about naughty high school boys who suddenly get telekinetic powers. I wonder if, somewhere, Scott Baio watches "Zapped", over and over - in between old episodes of "Diagnosis, Murder" - curled in a fetal ball, crying? I mean, RIAA VIDEO AWARD WINNER? That's gotta be hard to shake.
Originally $90 dollars. Worn for an hour. Now $25. Priceless. "Make it so, Ensign Yoda."
I'm pretty sure this is a grill. Even so, I kept hearing this angry, metallic voice ringing in my head: "Exterminate!"
Cousins, maybe?
This next one is pretty self-explanatory...
"Want a balloon, Georgie? They float, Georgie. We ALL float down here."
Ahem.
And really, where else could you get a Sears Craftsman Butt Hinge?
This next, of course, is the coup de grace...
No, this wasn't signed by Doug Flutie. That actually would be cool. No, this, as far as I could tell, was straight from our local Giant Market, and worse yet...someone had already opened it, and eaten the whole box. I mean - what's a box of "Flutie Flakes"...without the Flutie Flakes themselves?
Anyway....treasures await. Happy garage sale hunting!
Had a good time last night with Greg Hall of the blogradio show,
"Kevin Lucia holds up my already high opinion of his work with another Serling-inspired morality play on exactly what being a class-A asshole can get you in “A Willing Donor”." - horrornews.net.