Spring has turned into summer.
We got traffic.
We got mosquitoes.
We got traffic.
Yeah, I said it twice.
Because OH MY GOD have we got traffic.
But there is one more thing that arrives this time of year.
Yard sales.
Garage sales.
There are signs attached to telephone poles all across neighborhoods.
SATURDAY – YARD SALE
MULTI FAMILY YARD SALE
HUGE GARAGE SALE
Now, according to Google, a Garage Sale is when goods are sold from inside a garage, a carport, or a driveway directly in front of a garage.
Seems simple enough.
The definition is completely benign.
Yeah, on BecauseJimSays I can use big words.
I see signs for Yard Sales all the time.
Every now and then, though, I see a sign for a Garage Sale.
Recently I was driving through a neighborhood while working and spotted one.
GARAGE SALE
An arrow pointed down a side street.
I don’t know why, but I found myself curious.
Maybe they had something special.
Maybe this was an elite sale.
Maybe there would be tools.
Maybe there would be things for daughters.
Maybe there would be one of those weird ceramic ducks everybody’s grandmother somehow owned.
So I followed the arrow.
And there it was.
Correct address.
About 8:30 in the morning.
The early risers were already there, wandering around looking for treasures.
And all the merchandise was displayed in…
THE YARD.
The yard.
Not the garage.
The yard.
Now, to be fair, there was a garage attached to the house.
The garage existed.
I could see it.
It was approximately fourteen feet from the nearest folding table.
But the doors were closed.
Locked up tighter than Fort Knox, I assume.
The items could have been moved into the garage in less time than it took to make the sign.
Yet there they sat.
In the yard.
Mocking me.
Now if I had specifically gone looking for a Garage Sale, I might have been upset.
For I had been had.
I felt obligated to warn the shoppers.
“Ma’am, put down that ceramic goose.”
“Sir, step away from the fishing rods.”
“This is not a Garage Sale.”
“This is a Yard Sale masquerading as a Garage Sale.”
“You’ve been lied to.”
Nobody seemed concerned.
They were all just browsing.
Like this sort of thing happens every day.
Garage Sale.
Yard Sale.
Potato.
Potato.
It’s all the same.
But it’s completely different.
Maybe the seller decided his items were simply too classy for a Yard Sale.
After all, a Yard Sale sounds common.
A Yard Sale says:
“Please buy this lamp before my wife throws it away.”
A Garage Sale says:
“This lamp has a story.”
Same lamp.
Different marketing department.
Maybe that’s the secret.
Maybe the word “Garage” automatically adds value.
The guy across the street gets $1.25 for his breadbox.
This guy gets $2.00.
Same breadbox.
In fact, his might even have a scratch on it.
Doesn’t matter.
It’s branding.
It’s like buying a broom at Dollar General versus buying a broom at Target.
Same broom.
Different experience.
Except there was no experience here.
You were standing in a yard.
Paying premium Garage Sale prices for a used salad bowl and a set of wooden spoons.
The whole thing felt deceptive.
There needs to be oversight.
There needs to be accountability.
There needs to be Yard Sale Enforcement.
Jim Sumstine.
Yard Sale Enforcement.
The YSE.
Because YSE is YES in a different order.
And if I pull into your “Garage Sale” and everything is sitting out in the yard…
You’re getting a citation.
First offense: Warning.
Second offense: Mandatory sign replacement.
Third offense: Your breadbox gets marked down to $1.25.
Those are the rules.
Because Jim Says.
My Blog – My Rules.
My Take on Life and Events 