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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Getting Rid Of Stuff Garage Sales, Whether You’re Looking To Buy Or Sell, Are Almost Like A Competitive Sport

Paul Bourgeois Fort Worth Star-Telegram

The garage sale is not like other endeavors in which people buy and sell things, mostly because the garage sale is not really about making money. The money is secondary.

A garage sale is really about love, hate, life, death, greed, avarice, envy, the need to have stuff, the need to not have stuff, the need to feel like a winner and the need for a nice little social event.

For buyers, it’s about competing and winning. It harks back to that thing in the genes that makes us want to be hunters and gatherers.

For sellers, it’s about changing lives. Garage sales often come at turning points in life - births, deaths, marriages, divorces - said Sally Fortenberry, who teaches merchandising and entrepreneurship at Texas Christian University. These are periods when people have a strong need to purge their lives of stuff.

For both buyers and sellers, garage sales also fill a basic and eons-old need - a tribal kind of thing - to socialize with other members of the village, Fortenberry said.

Shopping used to be a social affair. You knew the butcher and the baker and they knew you. You chatted and caught up with the news. Now shopping can be cold and impersonal.

“The garage sale concept is not just a way to get rid of stuff, it’s socializing,” said Fortenberry. “It’s also an excuse to get outside and meet your neighbors and talk to people. “Plus, you have some control in the purchase price.”

Aha. The idea isn’t just to buy and sell, but to unload or acquire something for the best possible price. Call it the garage sale as competitive sport.

On any given weekend, scenes of loss, lust and life are playing out at garage sales.

In the Forth Worth suburb of Mistletoe Heights, Ted Turner (not the television mogul), was looking for something rare.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an anvil?” he said to no one in particular.

“AN ANVIL? You’ve got to be kidding!” everyone within earshot said, almost in unison.

“Yeah,” he said, “you got one?”

Turner, who’s into restoring old cars and metalwork, has been looking for more than a year.

“I found some,” he said, “but they were either too expensive or too beat up. You can abuse an anvil, you know.”

He said he won’t give up looking. He’d prefer an antique anvil.

“You never know when you might find one that’s been passed down in a family,” he said. Yeah, kind of an heirloom anvil.

At the same sale was Lewis Campbell, a garage sale regular for 20 years. Campbell is compelled to buy at least one thing at every sale. “I feel cheated if I don’t buy something.”

Would he ever hold a garage sale himself? How could you even ask? “I’m not what you would call a people person,” he said. “I wouldn’t like all those people about, touching things.”

Which reminds me of a story that demonstrates the ultimate garage sale axiom: Think before you sell.

A recently separated female neighbor was having a sale to unload some of her ex’s stuff. Some of it was still packed into boxes.

While prowling through a box containing a frayed paperback copy of “The Hobbitt,” water-stained college textbooks and scratched ABBA recordings, I fell upon a box containing hot pink, edible, ladies’ undergarments.

“Oh, my!” she said. “Where did you find those?!”

“Right here,” said I, trying mightily but failing to hold back a smile.

“Oh, ah, ah, those were a gift, I think,” she said. “They were never worn.”

“I can see that,” I said as I read the instructions on the back of the box.

“They’re very old. Probably no good,” she said. “You can have them.”

“Oh, thanks anyway. I think I’ll pass,” I said as I tossed them back and started back to my car.

xxxx Here are a few unofficial rules for garage sales By Paul Bourgeois Fort Worth Star-Telegram There are very few official rules for garage sales. Most cities require permits that range from free to $5 and set a limit on how many sales you can have a year. There are, however, unofficial rules: 1. First, ask yourself: Do you really want strangers gawking at and touching your stuff? Even more important, do you really want your neighbors gawking at and touching your stuff? 2. If you don’t fully expect to rake in $100, you should pack up your junk, donate it to Goodwill or the Salvation Army, and take the deduction on your income taxes. For less than $100, it’s just not worth your time or effort. 3. Don’t price anything less than 25 cents. If it’s not worth two bits, it’s not worth dealing with. If it’s not worth a quarter, put it into a box marked “Free.” 4. Limit your garage sale to one day, no more than six or seven hours. People who schedule three-day sales from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. are the kind of people who take great pleasure in “Police Academy” movies and root canals without Novocain. 5. The truly good stuff will be sold in the first two hours. Anything you don’t sell in the next four or five hours will never be sold. Give it to charity or toss it. 6. Never leave the money unattended. Carrying everything in a fanny pack is a good idea. 7. Lock the doors to your home and be very wary of allowing anyone to use the bathroom. 8. If you are selling electrical appliances, have an electrical outlet or extension cord nearby. If somebody asks if something works, be honest. 9. Be careful about putting out wedding gifts. You may have not seen the people who gave you this gift for years. They may live in another state. But if you put their gift out on a garage sale table, they will miraculously appear. 10. Above all, never ever put out for public viewing that ubiquitous, never-used, still-in-the-box-with-wedding-wrapping-paper-scraps-stuck-to-it fondue set. Fondue sets should be slipped into the trash in the dead of night, preferably into an anonymous commercial bin or the neighbors’ trash. Don’t bother giving it to Goodwill or the Salvation Army. Nobody ever fondues anything, least of all the nice folks who shop at Goodwill and the Salvation Army.