The State of the EstatePosted: October 3, 2011
Here in Sun City, folks don’t usually have “garage sales.” They’re called “Estate Sales” because it means someone either died or went into assisted living and there’s a lot more stuff to buy than with an ordinary garage or yard sale. Some people have garage sales but advertise them as estate sales to get the additional traffic, like our neighbors across the street. No one died. They’re from Michigan and have used the house strictly as a winter vacation rental for several years. They recently sold the house to friends of theirs, also from Michigan. Bill goes a little crazy because there are a cluster of homes around ours that are owned by people who are friends from the same city in Michigan. He calls our neighborhood Little Motown and dreams of the day that someone from Pittsburgh moves in so he can have a Steelers buddy.
But, back to the estate sale across the street. Mom is having a great time giving us a blow-by-blow of the activity. It doesn’t matter that we’ve tried to escape to another part of the house, the continuing updates just increase in volume. It’s even cut into The Price Is Right time. Every couple of minutes she calls out “Another car just pulled up!” followed by “Someone’s leaving now!” This is interspersed with a description – so to speak – of the items customers are carting away.
“Oh, look at that, they just sold some lawn chairs. Did we need those? Is that a toaster oven? Maybe not. Maybe it’s that other thing. Patty, you know, that other…”
“A microwave?” I shout from the Arizona Room.
“That’s it. And, look, there’s some kind of book shelf. Do you guys need that for the office? Maybe you should go over there and see what they’ve got.. Boy there are sure a lot of MEN that go to these garage sales.” she exclaimed, finally taking a breath.
“Mom, we had three garage sales last year to get rid of stuff. We don’t need someone else’s junk.”
“It’s not all junk. Some lady in a white van left with boxes and now she’s back for more!”
“That was Sue and those are the signs for the sale,” I explained.
“Well other people are taking away stuff, except for the ones that aren’t leaving with anything. You two should go over there. Some of it looks… Oh, here comes another car.”
Bill and I decided to spend the day at the pool – and the next day as well. We don’t care if we fry up like bacon on a griddle. Anything will be better that listening to the Estate Sale Broadcast station that’s taken up residence in the kitchen.