Our Viva la Niles! sale, below, is the 100th post to make its appearance here at Estate Sale Stories.
The moment I walked in, I dropped my keys in the first bowl I saw.
I can just picture myself relaxing here after a long day at the office, a tequila sunrise in one hand and a Benson & Hedges Menthol Ultra-Light 120 in the other, waiting patiently for our nation's Bicentennial to arrive.
The view from there certainly is... overwhelming. You better know down deep in your heart those mirror tiles are going to look kick-ass when you put them up, because it's going to take a sledgehammer, a hazmat suit and a mess of stitches in the emergency room to get them down.
Is there a rumpus room downstairs? You bet your subscription to Penthouse Forum there is!
There's a bit of Vegas excitement waiting as well.
I'm not arguing with this slogan, but I can't imagine anything less creative than playing slots. I mean, isn't that what zombies do when they're not dining on human flesh?
In the morning, after a long night of slots and party games with the neighbors, this breakfast nook would be the perfect place for some scrambled eggs and a screwdriver, easy on the OJ.
Then it's into the bathroom for a quick faceful of cold water before heading back to work.
Why yes, this is the Cadillac of bathroom vanities.
Why don't you have a seat and a smoke while I get dressed?
This jacket is about as rumpled as I am hungover, which ain't much. In fact, we're both still in great shape and ready for action. Have a drink waiting for me when I get home!
Take these long-reach grabbers, for starters. For most people, one is plenty. For those who want even greater convenience, one on every floor, or even every room, might be understandable. But this many? (There are twelve.) I have to wonder what you're grabbing at, and how incapacitated you are, and if you ought to be grabbing for that to begin with. Just sayin'.
Sidebar: If I didn't already live in a house blessed with more than enough furniture, this sideboard rotting in a basement corner would have come home with me. And then promptly had its drawer and door handles swapped out for something less... white.
The basement featured shelves and shelves of VHS tapes. And not the recorded-at-home kind either. There was a time when this many VHS tapes represented a great wealth of choice and possibilities.
Now they're just old technology looking for an eco-responsible method of disposal. But truth be told, I've got a few shelves of DVDs at home, too. And since going to this sale, I've been thinking about this collection, and my own.
I don't watch my movies all that often, and I don't think this person did either. But here's why I've got my DVDs, and why I think they had their VHS tapes: there's a feeling of security that comes with knowing I could watch my favorite movies at any time. No matter what happens or how bad things get. Come hell or high water. (Though not electrical failure or all-out apocalypse.) There's some comfort in that, I think. And comfort, wherever you can find it, is worth something.
On our way upstairs (where there's an even more impressive collection) let's stop in the dining room for just a moment.
And admire the grace and beauty and mid-century fabulousness of this light fixture hanging over the table. Stay for as long as you like. Our tour will resume at the next photo as soon as you're ready.
Most of the upstairs was your typical estate sale hot mess: cluttered bedrooms filled with a random assortment of books and furniture and linens and clothes and what-not that no one in particular was really interested in.
But there was this one room, used only to store slides, that kind of made me die a little inside.
Because here was a whole lifetime's worth of trips and vacations and pictures of the kids at Christmas.
Despite the looker photographed here, no one was interested in these.
But if I was independently wealthy, and didn't have a job to go to and a blog to keep up and a book to write, I would have taken all of them home, and looked through the carousels and figured out something worthwhile to do with this fantastic wealth of memories.
Like this woman. Here she is in the bathroom, gathering up some gently used health and beauty aids. You might think I was following her around. Actually, she just had an uncanny ability to get in front of me, no matter where I went.
Here she is again in the kitchen, assessing the quality of some pots and pans, oblivious to the fact that I'm happily snapping away.
And finally, in the pantry. It's probably a good thing that no one notices or cares what I'm doing. It's their inattention that makes this blog possible. But it's your scraps of attention that make it all worthwhile.
As the package says, these "over glasses protectors" are ideal for racquetball, handball, baseball and basketball. Also for getting your balls kicked in by the local bully when you show up wearing them.
John Hornor Jacobs is a good friend and a good writer, as well as a reader of this blog. Recently he commented that these old Macs might be worth a bit of money if they work. That seems a long shot, however, since I've never known an Apple product to actually do that. (Oh, snap! Send your angry emails here.)
Somebody...
... liked...
... chipmunks.
Now on to the mystery. This lighting fixture caught my eye.
As did its upside-down twin on the filing cabinet nearby.
And their black counterpart. Why?
Because I'd seen them before, at a yard sale about a month earlier. Is it possible these are different light fixtures, even though they're identical to the first three? Perhaps. However, it seems more likely they're the same ones, bought at one sale in September, and on sale again in October. Strange. Weird. Even a little creepy.
