My poor friend Ken has a terrible addiction to garage sales. This is real, and it is a serious disability. Ken just risked his life driving through a terrible storm to get his fix. The Hazen city wide garage sale was Saturday, Ken needed a fix and he was going to get here. It is not unusual for Ken to visit hundreds of garage sales in one weekend. When he finds a bargain, it is like hitting on a slot machine. You can actually put orders in with Ken. In the fall when Ken goes south to Arizona, you just tell Ken what you want. This year I ordered a hydraulic jack. To show how these addictions can spiral out of control let me digress. Ken found a trailer for sale in AZ. Now Ken suddenly had the goal of filling the trailer with previously owned items from garage sales and brining it back to North Dakota. Currently Ken is faced with selling the trailer, and everything in it.
Back to the story. Yesterday Ken called and told Lord Kadizzle to come get his jack. It not that simple with Ken. Like a used car salesmen, he wants to jack up the price with add ons. So when his lordship arrived at the junkatorium, of course there were numerous useful items. Suffice it to say his lordship came home with a birdhouse, a set of drill bits, a grabber, and an electric sander. All for twenty five dollars. This was a bad enough transfer of garbauche as the French would say, but then The Commander shows up. The fumes of bargains quickly overcame her, and now we end up bringing home precious stones, and six sprinklers.
As I told Ken, I would rather have a drug dealer for a neighbor than a garage sale dealer. Ken has a sideline to the garbausche business. Ken gathers buckets of North Dakota flint, which is basically worthless in North Dakota, and trades it to the flint nappers in AZ. There is little question in my mind Ken will be buried in a coffin from a garage sale. There will not be a gate when Ken gets to Heaven, just a big garage door.
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