If You Give A Shopper A Sale...

I have a dear friend who is an expert estate sale/garage sale shopper. She has yet not purchased the item for $2 that turns out to be worth $350,000 on Antiques Roadshow, but she has furnished her home with lovely, stylish things. A few weeks ago our elderly neighbors across the street moved out and into an assisted living complex. They called this week to tell me they were having an estate sale at their home on Friday. I have been at their house many times. They are a wonderful couple in their 80's, and they had many quality items from a lifetime of travel. I called Nancy C., Estate Sale Queen, but she couldn't make it. I am a rank amateur.

My office faces their house. The time was set for 10 a.m. I was working on my computer. At precisely 9:55 a.m., cars arrived as if descending from an alien cloud. I couldn't resist. I had to look. People were already schlepping boxes, furniture and bags of Antiques Roadshow-worthy items. There was a book for sale I probably should have nabbed earlier: Know Your Antiques.

In the corner of the living room was something I had often admired when visiting. It was a virtually new electronic keyboard. Macon, the owner, had only used it twice; plus it was the kind with all the bells and whistles--rhumba, tango, waltz backgrounds and so on. The picture here gives you an idea; his was even fancier.

I have always wanted to be a figure skater, and I also have always wanted to play piano. I cannot read a note of music. But just the way I imagine myself gracefully gliding on ice and being lifted in the air by Evan Lysacek, I visualize myself sitting down and playing effortlessly. The keyboard had a price tag of $60, which was a great deal. And for me, a good neighbor and friend, he would practically give it to me for $40! I was ready to buy, but then I paused.

If I bought the keyboard, I'd have to pay for lessons, and I'd have to buy books for my lessons. Then I'd have to invite people over for recitals. So I'd have to buy folding chairs. Of course, I'd have to buy yummy appetizers for them to eat while they were listening. So I'd have to get snack tables and classy paper plates and napkins. And so many would be clamoring to hear me, we'd need a bigger house...and yeah, it would be like buying the mouse a cookie.

And if that scenario didn't materialize, there was the other one: the keyboard would sit in the garage with the rest of the stuff I don't use. I wonder what these things say to each other at night? The electronic keyboard might turn to the electric fountain (which makes me want to pee when I plug it in) and say: Of all the gin joints and garages in the world, I had to get put in this one. Tacky garden decor, Beatles albums and a complete set of Weird Al Yankovic VHS tapes. Bummer, man.

In the end I decided to let my other neighbor buy the keyboard. This is the neighbor who has a pool table in her den, so I figure maybe someday she'll be selling that. I have no idea how to play pool, but if I get a good deal, it might be fine. Then I'd need that chalk stuff. And the rack for the sticks. And if it ended up in the garage, it would be a great place for folding laundry.