Itâ€™s true, all three of us met for sales this last Saturday and it was one of the first really nice weather breaks we have had. Meeting at my house at 8:30 Jenny and Karl started to talk about some sale that our saling comrade Pat had told Karl to hit. Sadly, I wasnâ€™t able to 100% follow the conversation, since I was trying to clean up the entire 12 oz. glass of water that I had just spilt on my couch. Ehg.
The sale turned out to be pretty good, with 4 boxes of pretty decent LPâ€™s on the front porch. The seller did have some really good records, but as most of her prices had been just a buck or two lower than what you would find at a used record store, both Karl and I knew we wouldnâ€™t be buying too much. Oddly enough, even though she was selling some great records, she was playing STYX — something that I couldnâ€™t really not comment on. Meanwhile, there was this Record Nerdlinger (look I know my people!) who was trying to sort of be in all the boxes at once, or taking up as much space as he could, so Karl and I sort of surrounded him. Karl was sort of wrestling one of the boxes away from the nerdlinger guy, then all of a sudden both Karl and I started to serenade him with the chorus of the Styx song. I think it was then that he realized he was out of his league and mumbled off to other parts of the sale.
Inside the house she had some great stuff, but much of it had been sold already. We did see Pat and I picked up a really cool wood and metal milk crate from 1958. Jenny picked up office supplies — exciting, right? Then above the stairs we saw this amazing Dukes of Hazzard bean art.
Now, it wasn’t for sale, so you donâ€™t need to comment about how much it was or why we didn’t buy it or what we paid for it … that just proves that you donâ€™t read. The seller told us that it was created by amazing mosaic portrait artist Jason Mecier.
We also found this! Yeah, itâ€™s a foot bottle. Um, yeah. No comment.
The next sale was a sort of moving-vintage-digger sale.
Nothing was as amazing as you thought it would be when you broke into a new bag, but she had tons of stuff to look at and I think we all picked up a couple of things.
Jenny was sort of intrigued by this homemade sock-monkey-with-cigarette thing.
And both of us seemed fascinated by this note folder thing, since we both remember it from the late 70s or early 80s. Why a 9 year old would want that is sort of ridiculous if you think about or look at it for too long.
The next was one that we had hit a year or so back (where we saw one of the most horrifying movie-prop creatures ever) and the guy was an artist or an art collector. The second we pulled up we knew it was the same guy. He was nice enough, but in the end he had a personality tic that I really donâ€™t like: The One Upper. Meaning he has to one-up every single thing anyone has to say about anything. Starting when I noticed a poster and said it was cool: â€œOh, that’s by Art Chantry and blah, blah, blah.â€ I tuned out, just saying â€œYeah, Art is a nice guyâ€ (implying that maybe I know him).
The entire sale was like that. If you said you like one fanzine out of the 50+ he had, he launched into some story about something. Jenny was accumulating a small stack of items, but I sort of just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Although he did have this bizarre kids book that I was sort of into.
The next sale turned out to be newer deadheads who I guess follow Phish!
I know this subculture, but itâ€™s not my subculture, so I donâ€™t really â€œgetâ€ making horrible jean pocket purses for sale.
We did hear a very long conversation about the upcoming 3 day Phish concert that the folks doing the sale planned to attend. GET ME OUT OF HERE!
We headed to another sale and saw this sign on the way.
It looked janky, but why not? Turned out to be a perma-sale with crazy prices.
Run. What has our day turned into, itâ€™s not even noon and the sales have started to suck.
Our last sale (as Karl moaned about needing a unicorn chaser) was pretty good. I mean he had pretty cool stuff, like this old record player.
I purchased this vintage picnic set from the 20s.
After this it was time to call it a day!