Serrano had a garage sale today. They opened up all the security gates, and there were dozens of houses with garage sales in front. Since our couch is horrible, we drove past the sales, looking for couches… just browsing, really… but then we saw a couch. The boy and I got out to take a look, but it turned out the couch was already sold. So I got back in the car.
BUT THEN… I saw it. This Nambé bowl, just sitting there on the ground. Our family has a few Nambé pieces from my grandmother. They’re beautiful, I love the style, and they’re expensive. And so when I saw one, a bowl just like one we have from my grandparents—I got out of the car, and said, “Hey, how much for the bowl?”
“Eh, I don’t know. My wife brought it out. I don’t even know… I’ll take $5. Looks like a $5 bowl.”
And the transaction was done. I gave him the $5, and got in the car and drove away. But he was wrong.
WRONG. That is not a $5 bowl. That bowl retails for $150. But he didn’t want it, so I now have an heirloom piece that will have lasting value for my family, for less than the price of a combo meal at Carl’s Jr.
We had a fundraiser for C’s school at the local McDonald’s, and I swear I have never seen a McDonald’s more crowded, and that includes when we stopped at that one McDonald’s in Barstow on school orchestra trips (you know the one… that EVERYBODY stops at in Barstow). I think the thing about having a McDonald’s full of elementary school students is that they’re so… kinetic. They’re like gas particles, in constant motion, so they seem bigger than they are.
When we grow up, we turn into these amorphous solids, able to stand in one place for long periods of time without randomly running as fast as we can toward no particular destination. Not sure that’s better, really.
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