How To Get Rid Of Junk

Going to a garage sale is like snooping into the private lives of other. What people put in a garage sale is like a window to their soul.
Going to a garage sale is like snooping into the private lives of others. What people put in a garage sale is like a window to their soul.

Daily Prompt: Clean House

Is there “junk” in your life? What kind? How do you get rid of it?

A garage sale is the way you get rid of junk.

This is how it works; other people pay you money to haul your junk away, that’s what a garage sale is.

Take a piece of junk; remember that food processor you bought for $7 at a garage sale three years ago? It was one of those $99 ones in a catalogue. You already had two you never used, but it was such a good price that you couldn’t imagine it being possessed by someone who would not get some good use out of it. We’ll put a tag on it and get rid of it along with the set of $12 golf clubs and $10 push mower.

I know what you’re going through; someday all that junk will be worth money. Here’s some advice and a word of truth; American Pickers and Antique Road Show is entertainment. It’s not the real world. You will not live long enough for your junk to be worth more than what you paid for it.

Here’s a test; the price you put on something in a garage sale is in direct correlation to your desire and willingness to part with it. – A pair of roller skates for $50, you’re too attached you can‘t part with it, you‘ve formed and emotional bond. A drill with a cord for $1, you are living in reality. Likely, you’ve been shocked by the drill.

I had this old bicycle pump. It was in several garage sales. The last price on it was 25 cents. Nobody took it. I stacked it with other items on the curb with a sign that read “free.”

I went inside to pour a coffee and looked out the window and saw some guy loading everything into the trunk of his car.

Six months later I see a garage sale. It’s at the house of the guy who took my pile of junk including that pump.

I thought I’d have some fun.

“What ya askin’ for that old bicycle pump?” I said.

“$3.00,” he said firmly. “Got at have at least three.”

“I’ll give ya fifty cents for it,” I said.

“Sold,” he said.



  1. I wish we had those garage sales in Switzerland, but we would have to get about ten different permissions from the local government to do it. My sixth cousine in Canada was always having them to make more room.

Blather away, if you like.

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