8:35 am and the driveway is a small marketplace. Dishes, a weed wacker, a pair of heavy duty waders, all the stuff that we have collected over the years as homeowners. One dollar? Two dollars? How much do you want to pay?
As I watch things leave in exchange for cash, I am amazed how much stuff we had collected over the past eight years. Things that we had to have, eventually lost their usefulness. Now this stuff was finding new life in the homes of others. Recycling? Perhaps, but did we really need any of it in the first place? Clearly we didn’t.
Why is it that one man’s trash becomes another man’s treasure? The need to accumulate things seems to be inherent in our systems. People are always looking for a deal or the right this or that. Kind of crazy, this weird transfer of energy. An underground economy that is never quantified as part of the GDP.
The people keep coming.
It’s 10:30 am. The selling continues, the stuff moves and we are released of our old ties to these things we once needed. After awhile, my questions and curiosity gives way to the conversations born with each new visitor. The exchange of money becomes less important. Something that was $4.00 is now a dollar. I am now having fun chatting with each new person who stops by.
The couple from Mexico with a small poodle named “Oso “(Bear). A women, 80 years old, who could get to her storage unit and needed things for her home. An elderly man shopping for his wife who was walking at a local mall. Families, couples, the lonely, all stop to look and chat. A circus of humanity with no price for admission.
We will have spent an entire Saturday morning selling things maybe to make enough to cover lunch. I can see now that it is the people who stop by that make having a garage sale special; not how much we sell. People may have taken tired, unwanted things from my driveway, but it is I, the seller, who obtains the real treasure on this day: the gift of human connection.