KAREN WIGHT -- No Place Like Home

My kids love garage sales. It’s so much more than the exchange of dollars

(or cents) for merchandise. Garage sales are opportunities for them to

practice negotiation techniques, fraternize with neighbors, hone math

skills and learn about commerce in their own frontyards. Memories from

garage sales mark stages in my children’s lives.

Over the years they have passed through many garage sale mind-sets. We

started with rampant accumulation. My oldest, Annie, is an Alex P.

Keaton. She scares me. She is the type of person who could sell ice to

the Eskimos. As a mother, this is cause to worry, but on the other hand,

I know she will be fine in the big world.

Annie once sold to one of the neighbors their own newspaper from their

own frontyard. They gladly paid her for it. Now, I’m sure the Johnsons

were just being supportive of her efforts, but what worries me is that

she thought to do it in the first place.

So, to Annie, a garage sale was an opportunity: to accumulate great toy

wealth, to exercise her negotiation tactics and to schmooze with the

adults on the street. This quest for enormous toy wealth rubbed off onto

the other two children and soon we were awash in others’ discards.

Dusty stuffed animals, games without all of the pieces and Happy Meal

treasures were added to our own cache of marginal “stuff.” At some point

my patience abruptly ran out and I put an official moratorium on

purchasing the neighbors’ junk.

Thus ended the Age of Accumulation. Not to be stifled, Annie and her

siblings moved onto the next opportunity: rampant sales of rampant

accumulation. The thought occurred to the kids that their items might be

of value to children whose mothers were nicer than theirs. I was

supportive of the closet cleaning and they had an opportunity to

experience capitalism.

This took an unfortunate twist at some point, however, when they would

attempt to sell their newly acquired birthday gifts for a fraction of

their worth, just to make a buck. Many arguments of “but, it’s mine to

sell” ended with another moratorium, and the Age of Sales officially

passed.

The next stage was a valuable one. Instead of planning garage sales of

our own, Annie and crew would help other neighbors plan theirs. Annie

would act as director of sales, Breck would be the sheriff, and Mary Rose

was added for curb appeal.

They were the roving band of garage sale organizers, quickly moving up

the ladder of garage sale success. They started at a flat hourly rate.

But my Alex P. Keaton quickly discovered that the world of commissions

was far more appealing. She would negotiate a commission structure days

in advance, help to price the items (and since she was on commission, you

can imagine what the pricing structure was like), and make posters to

advertise the great opportunities awaiting the lucky attendees.

Annie would arrive very early on the day of the garage sale, for she

discovered quickly that the really serious buyers arrive at least an hour

before the sale is advertised to start.

She learned that everyone likes a bargain and more likely than not, the

price needed to be somewhat flexible. She learned that the guy in the

Mercedes station wagon was the toughest sell of all and the lady in the

turban would stake out the house days in advance, looking for a peek into

the garage or carports.

I think valuable lessons were learned in sociology, psychology, math and

economics. In addition, my children got to know their neighbors, their

neighborhood and appreciated their parents’ efforts to earn a living.

Now that the kids are a bit older and less likely to hire themselves out

we often laugh and reminisce about our “Garage Sale Days.”

No one has replaced Annie and crew on the street, yet we see some

potential. Maybe the next stage for my children will be Trainers of the

Younger Generation, imparting knowledge and hoping for the future

entrepreneurs’ success.

Perhaps it’s not about the accumulation of goods, but perhaps the

gathering of life skills that makes a garage sale so worthwhile.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column appears Saturdays.