Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Vintage Yard Sale


We can’t but help think that Cindy is a hoarder. As I write this she is in the midst of day three of her “vintage yard sale.” In front of her house currently is a bunch of decorator bricks, bowls and cups from her kitchen, one long dresser, some rod-iron, one or two thick tree branches and a bunch of other ‘vintage’ goods. Her house is small but all of this came from inside it. At Christmas we knocked on her door to give her some home-baked cookies. She opened the door a crack, reached out a hand and took the plate---so we wonder. In her back-yard there are nine ironing boards painted pink and green. A number of people have stopped by to shop including a dad that lives down the street with his four young children (as I heard him explain). Could be it’s not a vintage yard-sale at all but something much more sinister.


Neighbors crisscross the street all the time to come and visit any one of the houses in our tract. The three a.m. knock on the door of the house behind us is common. Last week when I went to take out the trash Eric, from the house across the way, was searching the ground intently. He advised me that he was looking for cigarettes ends to smoke.

It’s all very sinister. It’s the classic horror story in which the insane rule while the normal ‘sane’ people are held captive in the asylum. Could also be a drug cartel operating here in the high desert. The bandanas, the early morning clatter of recycled cans going into trash bins, the smell of marijuana accompanying solo sunup arias must all be part of the cover.

The sun is setting and the line of cars en route to the vintage yard sale has ceased to non-existence. Except for the occasional dog bark, baby-cry and bird chirp the street is quiet. I suspect tomorrow is the last chance. If anybody wants eclectic, vintage (circa 1974) furniture and kitchen utensils you’ll find them at the house where a large piece of plywood covers the garage. Follow the sound of the coyotes and the smell of used tobacco. If you smell that sweet burnt-burning joint smell your purchase may even come with special accompaniment.

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