Yard Sale Bloodbath

Our frequent guest star Karl recently told me about a peculiar encounter he had while out doing what record squirrels do. But rather than attempting to recap this story in a normal post, I think I’ll just share our IM conversation with you.

First, Karl says: I do not think it is too unusual for other people to connect with other folks for a one-on-one meeting but this was out of the ordinary as you will read, it took forever to reconnect and I am going to say this was certainly worth it but I am ready to see what others think after reading…

Karl: weird story when yer ready…?!
Jenny: lay it on me
Karl: gave a gal my age my card after she got a “clockwork orange” poster right in front of me at a sale…for a dollar. she said she prolly did not want it…
Karl: that was over a year and three mos ago. she never called but i ran into her at another sale earlier this year and she says, i lost your card…gimme it again, i got records too…
Karl: so, she never calls
Jenny: is that the end of the story?
Karl: i then get a call from her this weekend (four months later) and she says come over last night…she is a pro picker and sells on ebay and has a house full of interesting things i can see – but this is out in the burbs
Jenny: and you got there and she was naked?
Karl: and she then says, lets go to the garage and she has art, she has clothes, she has all kinds of great stuff…and she does this for a living i think. I SAID, I THINK
Karl: hard to tell…but she give me the poster and proceeds to let me at a nice stack of records – about 75 or so. not naked bytheway
Jenny: that would have made the story really good.
Karl: and i get about 25. and she says, $25 including the poster
Jenny: wow good deal! I assume!
Karl: YES! after she tells me that she researched ‘em and that they were easily worth more than a dollar each – AND ENCOURAGED me to take more for .50 cents or whatever…
Karl: nothing funny going on here but i get 25 more and a killer adidas bag and she says, 50 bucks.
Karl: she turns out to be cool. super cool, totally knows her shit. furniture, clothes, you name it – records too.
Karl: i am about to leave and she asks, do you know anybody who can record sound? i say, no but one guy but he’s a recluse…
Karl: she says, “we have spirits here and i wanna know what they have to say”
Jenny: FUCK!!!!!
Karl: “the house and windows can shake, you know”
Karl: i say, NO I DO NOT KNOW!
Jenny: o.m.g
Karl: and she says “they are not ghosts, they are spirits”
Karl: it was kinda creepy
Jenny: weeeeeird
Karl: seriously
Jenny: and she has your number now!
Karl: continues to say, “i need someone to record what they are saying since – well, they said Haiti was going to happen…and Obama was going to win…”
Karl: I WAS LIKE WHAAAAAT?! the fuck?!?!?!
Jenny: dude
Karl: i was kinda tripping out…and left.
Karl: she was so nice jenny but this along with pictures of jesus at her doors…and she said she smokes a lot of weed (hello!)
Karl: i was freaking.
Jenny: good lord. FREAK SAUCE!
Karl: then i am driving home and looking at the records and thinking – am i going to bring these into my home?
Karl: yes, i get over it and now i can’t stop thinking about it.
Karl: straight tripping out.
Karl: KILLER RECORDS! i mean, jazz, psych stuff, indian – everything you can imagine
Jenny: dude, you better hope nothing starts shaking over there…..
Karl: stop that!
Jenny: btw, I am going to copy this whole conversation and send it to Meghan!

And all Meghan said was: “This needs to be on the blog.”

Karl adds: Lastly, I was not scared per se – more thinking, how does one come to tell another person, A STRANGER such things? I am pleased to say I am still around and none of the records have levitated or anything but I must admit, the entire thing still has me a bit freaked.

The moral of the story? Venturing into strange territory in search of the goods might bring scores, but you really never know what else you might find. It could’ve been worse, though … just ask the guy who dug through a bunch of disco records and found a mummified rat. Eek!

Jenny sent me an email on Friday afternoon with a few sneak peeks of upcoming sales. “Just Moved Sale: All Christmas,” “Original steampunk sculptures at large discounts,” and “GRANDMA NEEDS BAIL MONEY.” Yard sales in February sound great, huh?

Even better when we drove up to our first sale and they had a Churro holder.

Unless it’s for a business, why would you have that? And they didn’t have much else – about six books and some clothing.

Then we hit a sale that started on Friday, but honestly, beggars can’t be choosers. I had been to a pretty good yard sale run by an older woman at the same house a while back, and picked up some pink depression glassware for pretty cheap. When we got there it hadn’t quite opened, so we had to stand around with the line-up of estate sale regulars talking about all their great scores this week. This almost always gets on my nerves and I spent most of the time looking at Jenny saying “grandma needs bail money.”

Once we finally got in, the sale was just “eh” – not really enough stuff to make it worthwhile. Jenny did spot this box filled with a “muscle builder” and I purchased some old Ball jars.

We drove across town to hit an estate sale in a ritzy neighborhood that seemed like it could be pretty good.

I took more or less the same tactic while standing in line, this time mostly demanding that folks not purchase an enormous peppermill that we could see through the kitchen window. As folks started to come out they kept saying how there was tons of stuff, enough for everyone. Enough for Seattle: good sign.

Sure enough, the sale was packed. PACKED. P-A-C-K-E-D. Two closets filled with old lady clothes. Living room full of crystal and silver. And a kitchen filled with food, utensils, dishes, and a giant clam broth dispenser.

While I was digging through some shoes, Jenny came over and commented that it was odd how they had displayed stuff on a bedroom shelf like it was in a pharmacy. She asked me to get a photo of it, and I hung around the room for about ten minutes but someone was always standing in front of it. Jenny managed to get a photo a bit later.

All was well and good until we went into the basement. I first noticed the huge amount of cleaning products. I can’t really point fingers, under my kitchen sink there is a little more than I need, but still.

Then we hit the room with the built-in bar.

There were bottles of OLD beer (really, Rheingold Beer?! They haven’t even made that in my lifetime, I don’t think) and open booze from 40 years ago.

I spotted a bottle of Coke in what looked a glass half liter. I remember those from the ’70s. Jenny found a really cool Trader Vic’s bottle of pomegranate grenadine syrup. I wanted to purchase it, but it was sticky. We both seemed to be sticky after touching it.

This room also had some books – not a big deal, we both talked about how she had a few too many cookbooks. Little did I know we would then head into another room with hundreds and hundreds more.

Most of them were just boring, the type that you would see anywhere. Although a few were more unusual.

Later that day I said to Jenny that it seemed odd to have 400 cookbooks and Jenny said “400, NO WAY. There had to be at least 600. Maybe more.” It was frightening.

Off to the side of the cookbook room was the wine cellar.

All bottles were being sold for $2. We both poked around, but it was scary and the room wasn’t temp controlled. I purchased a bottle of red from 1958, mostly just because it was so bizarre. Later on someone broke a bottle, so the whole basement reeked of wine.

In another room I told to Jenny to look behind me. For some reason she hadn’t noticed the shopping cart. How the hell does someone this well off have that in their basement?!

After an hour (yes, an hour) we made our way to the cashier. Jenny only got a couple of old cooking pamphlets and a 1970 “RAP WRAP” folder covered with crazy astrological hippie art. I had crammed stuff into an ugly tote bag just to carry it around at the sale, and the cashiers somehow got me to buy it for $2. At that point I didn’t really care and just wanted to leave. That sale had wiped us both out.

I found this while rummaging through the kitchen at the fancy estate sale we hit the last time we went out. There was a nice recipe for poached salmon on the other side, but I snagged it for the photos! This is from the May 1985 issue of Pacific Northwest Magazine.

“I’ve seen Repo Man three times.”

“I broke my arm on our skateboarding ramp.”

“I represent Lake Hills on the State Soccer Team.”

“I used to be one of the top five cool people on the scene.”

I’m not sure what the point of this spread was, but I really wonder where all these people are now.

Most people are way too smart and/or sane to try to have a sale in January, but there are usually some estate sales here and there. Since it had more than two months since Meghan and I had hit sales together, we figured we’d take what we could get.

The first one we hit had put about five listings up on Friday, each including the phrase “ALL MOST GO.” By Saturday morning, they had figured out that the word they were looking for was “must.” In any case, I suspect most of it didn’t go anywhere. There was a ton of stuff and it definitely tended toward the junky side. We got there right after it opened and Meghan snagged a psychedelic vintage bathing suit from a box in the living room, but all the other clothes seemed to be old lady styles from the ’80s. Both of us had the feeling there had to be some good vintage finds stashed elsewhere, especially because there were boxes and piles that seemed like no one had looked in them yet. We kept feeling like we were about to uncover something great, but finally had to accept that she had probably gotten rid of all that stuff long before.

I ventured downstairs to the basement where more piles awaited … all seeming like they might have undiscovered treasures, but mostly just turning out to have crap. I saw a 7″ record case out on top of a box, and flipped it open to check out the contents.

Notice that this is “Side 99.” There were also some Book of Mormon flexi-discs scattered nearby. Who knew?!

Most of the basement was just junk. A lot of it was taken up by the dreaded tool area, but the rest was a mixed bag. Ancient cleaning supplies, horrible craft stuff, Depends … it was grim. Though I did think these toilet seats were rather festive.

Meghan discovered this sign in what apparently had been the “computer area.”

I picked up a little round vintage lamp and carried it around for a while … putting it down at least twice, then deciding maybe I’d get it. Since nothing was priced, I didn’t know what to expect, but I figured it would probably be cheap enough that I should just go for it. Sure enough, the guy charged me $1 for the lamp and my only other purchase — a piece of Yogi Bear wrapping paper.

Our next stop was a moving sale. Walking in we were greeted by this inflatable monkey and a leg lamp (a la Christmas Story)! But they wanted $100, which is freakin’ ridiculous.

We walked on into the main room where things were laid out looking like an antique mall or something. The seller was sitting in a chair in the middle, just watching us make the rounds. Her prices were out of hand and we left quick.

We headed over to a moving sale that we couldn’t find, until we saw the seller putting up a sign on the corner and she pointed us toward the house. Inside was a guy strumming a guitar, and one of the lamest sale spreads I’ve ever seen. And you know that is saying a lot! There was a huge pile of old computer monitors and keyboards on one side of the room (stuff you’d have to pay to dispose of), and about four worthless items on the other side. “Is this it?” we asked the guy. He said there was also a lawn mower outside. Great! Then he said “Yeah, I was a little surprised when I came over to help out.” It was truly pathetic.

Our next moving sale was a little better. There were a ton of books there, mostly an odd mix of new-age-self-help and gun collectible guides. I didn’t think I’d find anything I wanted, but I ended up getting a copy of Charles Krafft’s Villa Delirium for $1. I also picked up a tiny little plastic refrigerator that I first thought was a kid’s toy. The seller pointed out that it was actually for your desk, with plastic food-shaped office supplies (push pins, tape, clips) inside. Odd, and cute — I bought it (for another dollar). Meghan got some kind of weird fur coat for $5.

Next was an estate sale in a pretty nice area. When we walked in they had some cool antique-y stuff, but their prices were crazy. Then in some of the other rooms stuff was really cheap. The people running the sale really seemed to be all over the map. Upstairs was pretty much “elderly people with refined taste.” Downstairs is where it got weird. Most of the walls were bare, but there were a few things left up that were sort of funny.

In one room were tons of CDs … almost all classical, but with the occasional recent techno or swing title thrown in. We also spotted these stickers.

Then there were a bunch of crazy goth/raver clothes that did not seem to fit with the rest of the stuff at all. Platform boots, fishnet tops … and these out-of-hand fuzzy blue pants.

The label on these is FunkyFit. How great is that?

We figured there had to be a grandkid responsible or something, especially after we saw these ads taped up.

I said something about the clothes to the lady running the register, and she claimed that they all belonged to the old man. I have my doubts … but if true, that’s kind of awesome. Meghan and I each bought a few books here. She also got a cool pair of vintage shoes; I got some ’80s red boots, and a crazy pair of purple/gold platform boots that I can’t really even describe (or explain why I was compelled to buy them).

Next was an estate sale at a ritzy condo, which turned out to be way more massive than we’d expected from the outside. Everything there was pretty high-end.

I will note however that this was the second sale of the day with packages of adult diapers. I’d like to propose that if you are an estate sale professional and come across any of these, you should forego the possible couple of bucks you might make if someone actually buys them (which seems really unlikely) and just donate them to a worthy cause.

I didn’t purchase anything here, but Meghan bought a few schmancy sweaters. She also found an ’80s magazine clipping while flipping through the cookbooks — it had a poached salmon recipe on one side, which was presumably why it was saved, but the other side has captioned photos of various punky youngsters. If the stars align correctly, you might just see it in a “book report” here soon.

After one more stop at a very crappy estate sale, it was time to call it a day. None of the sales were spectacular, but for January I think the haul was not bad!