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Yard sale! Garage Sale! Whatever name you want to call them, they are not going away anytime soon.
My mother was never a fan of garage sales, although she would sometimes go with my aunt. Then in later years, she and my dad had several sales in their back yard as they attempted to rid themselves of decades of clutter.
Now that the economy has tanked, there seems to be an upswing of sales throughout communities nation wide.
Successful Sis
My sister, a fan of yard sales – holding not shopping at – seems to do very well. A recent sale prior to a job-transfer-mandated-move was very successful. She didn’t advertise. Just set up shop in front of her duplex, and had quite a good turnout.
The reason I even bring this subject up today is the interesting article in the July/August 2009 issue of AARP, The Magazine. You know, the one with Ron Howard on the cover.
The article is interesting and fun to read. It also brings memories of unloading unwanted items. This is not a garage sale-specific story. You really don’t want to hear my version of the one or two I was involved with.
Curbside Success
Several years ago I moved from Michigan to Arizona expecting never to return. As a couple of guys were helping me load the DIY moving van (the big orange one), they talked me into keeping the two sets of golf clubs I was trying to get rid of. After all, I was moving to a golfer’s paradise, they insisted.
I hadn’t played golf in years, but somehow inherited my Dad’s set as well as my own. After the truck was loaded, I drove to Dad’s house about an hour away. I was to pick up my sister before heading to Tucson. When I arrived, we added a couple of items from his house.
I told him I didn’t want the golf clubs and probably would get rid of them once I got to AZ. He told me to set them out by the curb on his street. He lives in a quiet residential area and the only people who usually drive down his street are those who live there, or their visitors.
I did as instructed, and lo and behold, in just a few minutes someone stopped and helped themselves to the golf clubs. We didn’t make any money, of course, but they were quickly unloaded.
Do what?
Much to Dad’s dismay, I won’t let him set the old two-tone commode by the curb – the one he has been trying to get rid of for years. I do have a limit as to what sits in front of the house. I have a feeling the commode would take a little longer to unload than the golf clubs.
Are you a garage/yard sale aficionado? What are your favorite memories?
