Barbara J. Hamby

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Collectors of Stuff

On this Sunday morning, the second day of the estate sale across the street, there were approximately twenty people waiting outside the door just before the 9:00 a.m. start time. The first person was there at about 8:40 a.m. Before he opened the door to let the crowd in, the man inside came out and formed them into a line, presumably so they wouldn’t trample each other going through the one small door.

There was a steady stream of people in and out until about 11:00 a.m. Then there was a lull until about 12:30. Apparently, church goers are devotees of estate sales, because the steady stream began again and continued until about 3:30 p.m. The sale ended at 4:00. When I went over there around Noon, I was astonished at how little was left. The house had been packed from wall to wall in all the rooms and closets yesterday morning.

In my two trips over there, I managed to keep my expenditures down to $5.90 total. I love stuff as much as anyone, but I have way too much as it is. I’ve never owned a pepper mill before, and for just a dollar, I have a combination pepper mill and saltshaker now. For two dollars I got four brand new place mats with six matching napkins. They still had labels and price tags on them and I don’t understand the discrepancy in quantity. Maybe the extras are for those of us who always drop our napkins. I also bought a candle with holder and some books, of course.

The customers’ conveyances were varied and interesting. They came on foot, on bicycles, motorcycles, and autos and trucks of all descriptions. The weather was so wonderful there were several convertibles with tops down. I remember how handy it was to load my old convertible when I moved. Put the top down, fill it up, and raise the top.

I wonder if any other country in the world is so filled with stuff collectors. Several of the people in the South who’ve been hammered by hurricanes have remarked about their losses: “It’s only stuff; we’re alive and we can start over.”