What I'm Listening To: We Are Rockstars by Does It Offend You, Yeah?Rummage sale. Garage Sale. Estate Sale. Moving Sale. I have never seen so many misspelled and crazy-looking jerry-rigged neon-colored sale signs posted in our neighborhood in the whole time we've lived here. They’re everywhere! There are signs tied to trees, light posts, tied on a kid’s back – no kidding, I saw a kid with this makeshift sandwich board rummage sale sign tied to him. Now that’s a fun summer job! Then there are rummage signs taped to some minivan’s rear window, or stuck in the ground with a stake.
And the lettering? Whooeee! I’ve seen signs written in pencil – uh, what are you thinking? I’m gonna get out of the car to read your frickin’ sign, dummy? I’ve seen them written in ballpoint pen – uh, hello! I'm getting up there in years, so my eyesight is not that good, so maybe write with a sharpie or something?? Seriously, though, just drive down any street in Stallis and every couple feet you’ll see some silly sign for some sort of makeshift sale. This is ridiculous. The recession has brought out the Billy Mays in all of us. (RIP, Billy!)
Every morning we drive down S. 76th Street to get on the freeway to go to work. And every morning I see a couple more rummage sale signs. It’s getting out of control. Who’s even buying this stuff? There are so many sales now, there’s no one to buy the crap!
Now I won’t lie, I don’t really like buying used things out of someone’s garage. It’s off-putting to me to purchase something that I don’t know where it’s been, even if it's priced under a buck. For all I know, that nifty blender sitting there was used to make a urine milkshake, or those gorgeous embroidered pillows once cradled your dead grandma’s head when she died in her sleep on the couch. It’s just creepy. Oh, I know, people find awesome stuff all the time and then they go on Antiques Roadshow and retire and all that. But still, you gotta admit sometimes that you're creeped out.
And the lettering? Whooeee! I’ve seen signs written in pencil – uh, what are you thinking? I’m gonna get out of the car to read your frickin’ sign, dummy? I’ve seen them written in ballpoint pen – uh, hello! I'm getting up there in years, so my eyesight is not that good, so maybe write with a sharpie or something?? Seriously, though, just drive down any street in Stallis and every couple feet you’ll see some silly sign for some sort of makeshift sale. This is ridiculous. The recession has brought out the Billy Mays in all of us. (RIP, Billy!)
Every morning we drive down S. 76th Street to get on the freeway to go to work. And every morning I see a couple more rummage sale signs. It’s getting out of control. Who’s even buying this stuff? There are so many sales now, there’s no one to buy the crap!
Now I won’t lie, I don’t really like buying used things out of someone’s garage. It’s off-putting to me to purchase something that I don’t know where it’s been, even if it's priced under a buck. For all I know, that nifty blender sitting there was used to make a urine milkshake, or those gorgeous embroidered pillows once cradled your dead grandma’s head when she died in her sleep on the couch. It’s just creepy. Oh, I know, people find awesome stuff all the time and then they go on Antiques Roadshow and retire and all that. But still, you gotta admit sometimes that you're creeped out.
I’m not totally being upfront here, though. Okay, I had my seasons where I'd haunt the local Value Village and buy a vintage winter coat…or two…or three. Shut up, I know. I have like five mink-collared winter coats from the thrift store. And I've been known to buy a few items at the local “vintage” store when it’s caught my fancy. But mostly, if I have a choice, I’ll buy my things brand new – especially underwear. Ha ha!
But back to the trashy rummage-o-rama that has become my side of town in West Allis. (BTW, IS there a trashy side of West Allis? I thought the whole town was trashy! Ha!) You might as well rename our street Seven Mile Fair, for cripes sake, since there’s so many people who’ve decided to become used crap entrepreneurs. I’m almost expecting some freak with no bottom teeth and a mullet to be selling knifes on my next door neighbor’s lawn, his huge scary wife growling at me because I wouldn’t buy one! Or someone selling malnourished puppies across the street! Okay, don’t get me started about Seven Mile Fair. That place is a trip!!!
And have you seen what these people are selling? Okay, I haven’t. I’m too scared to venture over there and take a look because, hey, I might like something. And I really shouldn’t buy any more junk – because you know where it all ends up? That’s right, in our already full-of-junk basement. Let’s just not talk about Casa Reagans’ chock-a-block of crap cramped basement, with the 15 boxes of antique books, and the old furniture, and all my nostalgic memorabilia. I mean, I cannot force myself to throw away my dozens of cassette tapes, or six months' worth of high school notes written between me and my big junior year crush who declined to take me to prom so he could be reunited with his old girlfriend. Come on! He might be a big famous artist right now for all I know -- uh, I haven’t seen him in 20 years! -- and then I could sell these super personal notes he wrote me for oodles of cash. Now only if I could actually find someone who cared about dozens of tiny pieces of folded notebook paper filled with rhapsodies about him selling candy so the senior class could travel to NYC and be all arty. Whateves.
So back to the rummage sale thing. Sorry about my high school tangent there. You all know that it’s my 20 year high school reunion this year, right? Yeah, that’s another blog topic altogether. Hey, have you shopped at any rummage sales this summer? And did you get anything good? Let me know if it smells like pee though, ‘kay?
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