Summer Sales Coming to an End.

This summer I decided to make a special effort to attend as many community sales, flea markets, and estate sales as possible. It's been a good opportunity to spend Saturday mornings with my family, and pick up some nice stuff on the cheap. We've certainly been able to put together a great library for Baby E., which I am sure he will enjoy as he gets older. Given the amount of second hand children's books available out there, it seems foolish to buy them new. And you don't have to settle for grimy, beat up versions either. It appears that many parents who get kiddie lit end up letting it rest on their shelves. I have seen tons of stuff in mint condition available for anywhere from a dime to a dollar.

Last year we only really attended two or three neighborhood-wide sales. The Aspinwall community day was especially memorable, as I found someone willing to part with a bunch of obscure books and DVDs for virtually nothing. I looked hard to find his house once again this year, but he was nowhere to be found. However, it was relaxing having the opportunity to browse around a neighboring area. Still the only real tradition we've established over a long period is our annual attendance of the Regent Square sales. This continues to be the most extensive collection of yard and garage sales in Pittsburgh. While you can certainly commit to walking, there is no way you can see everything available without a car.

In this summer of 2008, we kept a sharp lookout for similar events (I spent a lot of time on Craigslist). I was quite impressed by the Highland Park sales. In fact, I was surprised to see just how nice that part of the city gets. Owing to circumstances, I never really spent much time there. I have a couple of friends that live on a somewhat sketchy street, and I was under the impression that their block was generally representative of the whole. That turned out not to be the case at all. We found tons of loot worth taking home. Meanwhile attendance was surpassed only (perhaps) by the crowds at Regent Square. I also benefited from a visit to Friendship's community sale. While there wasn't as much participation, I scored big on an inside tip and came home with a paper bag worth of goodies from an aging hipster.

I know that the season is concluding, but I'm still working off the high of my big score- the Bukowski limited edition book from 1963. Besides providing a great tale that has inspired a lot of daydreaming on the part of my friends, the find constitutes an object I'll likely treasure for years. While I dare not expect a repeat of such a find, I cannot help but continue to hope to find another prize. So every Saturday morning I drag myself out of bed around 8AM and schlep off any weariness that I accumulated the night before. Obviously I've had my share of disappointments, and discovered that people can be quite deceptive in our modern era of marketing consciousness. I've seen plenty of junk.

Today I thought an extensive trip might pay off, as National Garage Sales Day is said to be this weekend (accounts differ on the actual day). With a bit of anticipation I planned a detailed itinerary. I guess it figures that my efforts were ultimately in vain. It started out with minimal success in Bloomfield (I picked up a couple of "Thomas the Tank Engine" books), and it was all downhill from there. Trips to the "Green Flea Market" at the Carnegie Science Center parking lot and the advertised sales in Manchester (in the North Side) yielded absolutely nothing. Hoping to redeem the wasted time, I stopped off at a Friendship sale, only to find out that I had been there a month ago. I don't know if I missed something, but the offerings were exhausted and forlorn. Perhaps its time to start looking toward next spring.

A Swelterin' Good Time.

OK... so turns out I was a bit dismissive about the heat this weekend. It is freakin' hot and humid. Granted it's June, so this isn't completely unexpected. But it certainly took me by surprise this year. Like I suggested in an earlier post, I have indeed spent most of the time out-of-doors. I am sure to have lost significant water weight. It has been worth it so far, as last night's Unblurred was everything I thought it might be and more. Driving by the Sprout Fund building on Penn, I was taken aback to see plenty of people already milling about in the adjacent lot. There was even a deejay set up. I thought that I'd stop by 'early' and take in the scene, and quickly learned that they had a name tag waiting for me at the front desk, and the happenings had started two hours previously. I surmised that I was supposed to stay awhile.

Truthfully it wasn't like I felt trapped, what with the free beer and entertainment and plenty of interesting folks catching up with each other. I actually had to pull myself away to see what else was going on down the street. Even with all the competing events going on last night, Penn Avenue was kickin'. I never once felt like I hadn't made the right choice as to where to be. The art itself was generally solid, but the main attraction was the amount of participants of all kinds. Everyone seemed to put out extravagant spreads too, which meant that revelers were feeling especially catered to. My friend even pointed out a few "sold" markings under some of the work. That was only mildly shocking because things were priced so low. I guess recession prices have officially settled in.

It was nice to see Christine and Matt from Moxie Dada in their home setting. Nicole and Josh from Boxheart were also present when I stopped by. It required a visit for it to sink in how good an idea these two galleries have developed with their "Open House" idea. If you are interested in having art hung temporarily in your home, they will come and interview you about your tastes, friends, interests and hobbies. Then they will select specific local art to match your answers, and hang it in your house for a party. If some work sells, the service is paid for that way. I like the fact that they are thinking outside the box with this concept. Pittsburgh definitely requires creative innovation in art marketing. Hopefully this project will succeed.

This morning there was no rest for the weary, as the Aspinwall annual community sale was going on. I was there last year with M., who was newly pregnant. She nostalgically remembered one guy who helpfully provided a plastic bag so that she didn't have to puke in the street. But you see, that's just the way the folks in that neighborhood are- accommodating. We got an early start, and with Baby E. in tow this year, we relied on the car to get us around. I blasted the air conditioning, and we took turns getting out to check out each household's offerings. We actually covered a lot of ground quickly that way. And E. was remarkably patient, sitting in his car seat and playing with his favorite Hawaiian-shirt-wearing stuffed monkey.

It's appropriate for E. to be forbearing of his parents' obsessive search for bargains- because he made out like the little bandit he no doubt will someday be. His library is expanding in great chunks this Spring. Children's books apparently don't have a whole lot of utility for people with adult offspring. The most either of us have paid for a single title is $1.50, and that felt like an obscene extravagance in the face of prevailing market prices. The vast majority of the 'little lit' we see at garage sales is priced between 25 and 50 cents. I don't understand why anyone would pay retail price for this stuff. And we also scored some cool-assed Playmobil pirates from some yuppie family in Fox Chapel. I thought at the time that half a dollar per figure was a bit expensive, but it turns out that a lot of adults obsess over these toys. Who woulda figured?!

True Serendipity Brightens My Mood.

I had a span of a few very rough days in the last week, and my head's been filled with a lot of unnecessary stress. It's probably not appropriate to post the details on the blog, but it's an instructive story about 'friendship' and dual relationships. Anyway, one of the ways I get through stuff like this is to tell myself that things come around and there's likely to be good moments coming soon. I don't know if I'd say I necessary believe in something as nebulous as 'karma', but it's certainly hard to deny the existence of luck. From a statistical perspective, I suppose you could just consider the law of averages. If you analyze the quality of your days, some of them are by necessity better than others.

So I felt like I had a good day (or at least part of one) coming. Lo and behold, I've had a great start today. When I was scanning the internet to find things to do this weekend, I expanded my search to a few areas of Craigslist that I don't normally frequent. I looked at the upcoming garage and estate sales in the area, and found a listing that seemed intriguing. The description seemed to suggest a more discriminating taste, and I marked it down as a must-see. M. woke me up early today and we decided to hit this address first. I made my way through the streets of the indicated neighborhood, and found myself ascending into a small subsection where I had never been before.

The house was modest, and I had moderate hopes that I'd find something I could use. There were a lot of family members hanging about, and they were very welcoming. I saw lots of jazz CDs and picture frames. There were plenty of pairs of shoes and leather jackets. But there wasn't anything I had to have. I wandered into the basement to have a look, and browsed through some book shelves. There were lots of volumes on theater and some on photography. I was impressed at the sophistication of the collection, and had an intuition of promise. My feeling was fulfilled dramatically when I found an early Charles Bukowski title that I didn't recognize. I knew I'd buy it immediately.

It was called It Catches My Heart in its Hands. I have a number of Bukowski's works in their Black Sparrow editions, but I had never seen this particular book around. I went upstairs to pay for it, and the lady who took my money couldn't figure out whether to consider it a paperback ($1) or an oversize ($2). She opened up the front cover and said, "How nice... it's even signed." My heart came up to my throat for a second as I feared that she would not want to sell it. She suggested $3, and I told her to take the entire five bucks that I held out to her. She was delighted- "How sweet of you!". I smiled and walked out of the house and started to shake a bit. It wasn't until I got to my car that I took a real close look at what I had.

My new treasure was handcrafted, signed, and part of an edition of 777. The signature (in silver ink) reads "Charles Bukowski 8-2-63". It was produced by Jon and "Gypsy Lou" Webb (Loujon Press), who published an avant-garde literary magazine out of New Orleans called The Outsider. Apparently Bukowski made their acquaintance while he lived briefly in Tucson, AZ. After Jon Webb made a particularly successful trip to Las Vegas, he used his winnings to produce this exquisite collection of poetry. It really is remarkable, and I had a feeling that it was quite valuable. When I got home I Googled it and had that feeling confirmed beyond my expectations. Now all of a sudden I'm in a good mood and feeing very fortunate.

A Spring Spirit Enhancer.

It's rare to experience a truly crappy spring weekend. The sun is shining, the weather is pleasantly warm, and the flora and fauna had returned. A natural burst of energy typically expands throughout the people, and the mood is generally relaxed. It takes some seriously negative events to put the damper on a Saturday under these conditions. Well... the last few days have been tough. But I'm not going to go into any specifics here on this blog- instead I'll focus on the lighter side. If it had not been for the proliferation of yard sales, this past weekend might have been unrelentingly dark for me.

Spring cleaning is upon the community. Time to jettison some of the unnecessary accumulation from around your house, and hopefully get a little cash to replace it with junk to get rid of next year. Church rummage sales, weekly markets, huge swap meets, and garage sales dot the calendar in May. And if you are in a buying mood, the search for your own personal treasures is stimulatingly pleasing. Perhaps you'll find that needlepoint owl portrait you've been coveting. Maybe there is a secondhand tennis trophy with your little one's name plastered on it. Or is it that VHS copy of Over the Top that you've been trying to track down? Somewhere in the city it could be waiting amidst piles of worthless junk... waiting for you to come along and transport it to its new home.

One thing you have to do is get up early to get the good stuff. Don't go to the after-hours club the night before, and stumble out of bed at noon with a hangover... it will be too late. The smart shoppers set their alarms for 7AM. Grab a pair of sanitary gloves and put on your orthopedic shoes and prepare to shop 'til you drop. Do so with the righteous awareness that your behavior runs counter to the wasteful habits of the typical American consumer. You are recycling. You are resourceful. You are creative enough to come up with a use for that "Welcome to Enchanting Erie!" candy dish. Others may turn their noses up at the sight of a Lite Brite (tm) without any of the little bulbs. But not you. Some day you may be able to use it.

Don't forget it's the people that really matter. It's your chance to engage your distant neighbors. They want to talk to you. Even if you don't want a pack of generic-brand, size D batteries... make them an offer. Haggling is a venerable tradition among the peasant class across the years and in every nation. Just because that dreamcatcher spent the last fifteen years acquiring a nicotine patina in a trailer park off of route 51 doesn't mean it's not a genuine piece of contemporary folk art. You may not expect it, but be damn sure the next passerby is going to recognize the collectible status of that Purple Monchichi. 'Oh so soft and cuddle-ly'

Just because that guy behind the table has half a mouthful of creamed-corn-colored teeth doesn't mean his unopened 50-cent toothbrushes from Maylasia aren't a steal. And who's to say that someone isn't poring through the Ebay listings right now looking for the December, 1979 issue of Big Butt magazine? Have you ever considered the increase in value that 1982 rookie card of Sid Bream could bring if he hits 50 homers this year? I bet you haven't. And with the rash of summer superhero blockbusters right around the corner, there could be a resurgence of interest in the New Mutants. Grab up all them copies!

When you are ready to get back into your car and make a getaway with all your booty, be sure not to neglect your stomach. That hot dog might be shriveled and a bit green, but it benefits the Beaver County Chamber of Commerce. The fig and cheese homemade pies are only a week old. And those "beef" sticks haven't left the basement freezer since the start of hunting (um... roadkill) season. Spend that extra buck and wash the vittles down with all four flavors of Value Time soda pop- Grape, Dr. Pizzaz, Bubble Wash, and Red. Mmmm.... refreshing, flood that finger dust right down into your gullet. Don't hit no seniors on your way out of the parking lot!