by Mark Maine

Created on: January 11, 2009   Last Updated: February 03, 2009

If you have ever stopped to contemplate the theory behind yard sales, then you would have to raise the question as to why anyone would ever go to one. The first fact to spring into play points out the obvious, that the items currently up for sale are no longer desirable to the individuals who currently own them. The second observation denotes that the items are usually just barely above the value to have saved them from being tossed in the trash or hauled to the recycling center the weekend prior. At forty miles per hour everything in a yard sale looks just great, as long as it is in someone else's yard! If you are daring or foolhardy enough to stop, then upon close examination the items take on their true luster.

Needless to say, yard sales are not my favorite venue to purchase household items, apparel, tools, or any other devices previously sold by Ronco for $19.95 plus shipping and handling. In fact I do my best to steer clear of them and save myself the unwanted trip to the recycling center in a matter of months to toss that Ginsu knife collection that can't cut its way through hot butter anymore. It is not that the irrational compulsion to purchase someone else's kitchen utensils overwhelms my senses and I wake up hours later disorientated with an armload of aged CorningWare. No, no, it is worse than that. Yard sales have this uncanny ability to absorb time and render my weekend plans completely useless, often with terribly pleasant results. You see, I have three young children and in order for you to fully understand, I will tell you this story.

It all started on a certain Saturday morning, the alarm goes off at 6:30am sharp. I jump up, feed the dog and begin breakfast for the family. We planned and saved up a little money to take a drive down to the seacoast of Maine and spend a little time at the ocean. It is a perfect day for the beach, you couldn't ask for better. After breakfast we load everything up in the car and head out. Half way down we hit a bump and the muffler breaks loose from the exhaust. The kids all think it's cool because now our old car sounds like a top fuel dragster. I personally feel that it sounds more like an antique Willy's Jeep, I also see an ominous muffler repair bill that I didn't want or expect. We stop for gas and everyone jumps out to go inside the store to get a snack, at which time my daughter points out that my son decided to go barefoot this morning. So we make a pit stop at the local dollar store and pick up a pair

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