Yard Sale

Saturday we hosted a yard sale at our house in Fairfax. We moved about $300 worth of old furniture, clothes, books and CD’s. We had advertised in the Post that the sale would begin at 8 a.m. At 6 a.m., when I went out for a morning run, there were already two minivans parked expectantly outside our driveway. Before 7 a.m., they were hovering around my wife as she placed out our in-laws’ china and crystal ware. The game was on.

The rest of the day the flotsam and jetsam of central Fairfax drifted by. Parents holding coffee mugs, kids in soccer gear, couples spending a weekend together. The odd thing about a summer yard sale is that there is no rhyme or reason to who shows up. But they’re all motivated by the desire to save a dollar or make a deal. I even unloaded some old state park maps and constituent handbooks (circa 2002).

I had a long conversation with a young man who lived near Fairfax Circle. He was a Republican who wanted to talk politics. He complained that the Presidency of George Bush was ruining the conservative movement. It’s always amusing when the party of small government leads such a significant expansion in Federal jurisdiction and spending. I agreed with most everything he said — but I still couldn’t get him to buy my poker table for a lousy $10.

Chap

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