My mom loved garage sales. I've been thinking about that a lot as I prep for my first sale in four years. As I sweep and dust and re-locate the non-sale items, between my moments of embarrassment for leaving my garage in a "make-do" mode for so long I try to remind myself why Millie loved this ritual so much. After all, as I survey my domain, it's clear this isn't a way to get rich. There is nothing cost effective when a two-day sale requires a week of prep to get rid of items at five and ten cents. I'm doing this, I tell myself, to be a good neighbor to other garage salers who are exceptional neighbors to me. Okay, that's reason enough.For Mom, it was never about money; rather, she loved the sale--she had been a sales clerk at J.C. Penney's before she married Dad--and the socializing with friends and customers alike. Mom was one of those people who truly didn't know a stranger. I once left her alone on a mall bench while I shopped. Fifteen minutes later she had the life history of the woman who had sat down beside her. A garage sale, then, she saw as a gold mine of conversation and community news. Only once did her sale threaten to go sour. At a sale she was running for our neighbor, two women got into a shoving match over a refrigerator. To be honest, I think Mom sort of enjoyed the spectacle--the other customers certainly did. Fortunately for the sale, one of the customers was local law enforcement who played Solomon, and Mom got her money.
Mom was at her best when she teamed with my aunt, Maxine. Together, they gave customers the one-two punch. While Mom loved the social aspects most, Maxine zeroed in on the "kill," as she would say: the sales for a profit. Her goal was always a bare garage. You had to be careful when Maxine was in prime form, though. One Friday I stopped by their garage sale after teaching. Taking a few minutes to chat with Mom, I didn't notice Maxine at work--until I bent down to pick up my tote bag with papers and gradebook. She had sold it, literally behind my back. At that moment I moved faster than the customer, who was pulling out the drive, to rescue my students' papers. When I returned to the garage, Max was still at it. She had plopped a bunch of plastic flowers in the garage trash can (not intended for sale) and sold it as a bouquet.
Thinking about my own garage sale venture, I guess I'm like Maxine in that I want to end up with a bare garage. But perhaps the payoff already has occurred for me, because the prospect of a neighborhood sale has forced me to make decisions I have avoided for seven years. I finally opened some drawers that were filled with Mom's things and decided that now is the time to share them with others. Thinking about how much she loved sales, I know she would approve.
