Junk Exchange

My garage has become what is now referred to as The Hobocamp.

I love free stuff. Or rather, I love the opportunity to comb through other people’s junk they are giving away, find an object that will serve a purpose, and hold it close. In the same way I love receiving junk, I desperately love giving my things away. I know I am not alone.

Refuse began gathering in a corner of our shared garage a year ago, and now measures 10 feet in length. I’m certain this will lead to eviction. One box quickly became two, and has slowly accrued all manner of clothing, cutlery, crockery ware, books, games, unused calendars, linens, etc. A hobo could literally, with the exception of sustenance, take up residence and live a quite comfortable existence. What is embarrassing is that this is a shared space. No doubt, the neighbors are wondering what the hell is going on.

My idea of a collaborative garage sale has recently been replaced with a junk exchange. Why aren’t more friends getting together to barter crap? We all have it, want to get rid of it, and want to replace it with more interesting crap. Why not my plastic measuring cups for your small chalkboard? A planter for my kitchen towels—perhaps you enjoy earnest hens as my grandmother once did? Add some cheese and wine, and you have yourself one hell of a cocktail party. Themes could be instituted as well—entertainment (movies, cds, electronics, books), recreation (sports equipment, camping gear), you get the idea.

And here is the beautiful thing—because it’s crap you once loved, but love no longer, there really is no market value attached to it. You want it out of your life one way or the other, so there is no haggling over sales price. It comes down to wanting someone else’s crap more. That old Pointer Sister’s shirt is Mecca and that sack of trash is your ticket in. Truly a no brainer.