Like I mentioned yesterday, we held a garage sale this weekend. We did quite well. I wasn't expecting that. I'm never expecting that. I look at our puny display of junk and, every single time, say "nobody is going to buy any of this." And every time I'm proven wrong by the insanity of others. So stuff I expected to take to the landfill ended up producing some much-needed cash. Books sold. Can you believe that? I thought no one read anymore. Books sold like crazy. Clothes sold. Kiddie toys sold (I expected that one). But one of the items that sat forlornly on the lawn for the entire sale was a shoebox of baseball cards. Nobody wanted them. These weren't special cards at all. I saw a few guys look over at them like they thought they might score a 1958 Willie Mays, only to realize they were cards from the last 25-30 years. But that's why they were in the garage sale. These weren't cards I could sell online, and I'm not a Craiglist idiot. I knew...
Up all hours talking baseball, cardboard & collecting