As I mentioned a few days ago, there was a kind of communal garage sale today in Ypsi. About 20 of us with cars pulled into a lot behind the Sidetrack and sold stuff out of the trunks of our cars. Linette and I, after four hours of sleep, ran through our house this morning, picking up things that we thought might sell, and stuffing them into the car like we were in the middle of some kind of competition on “The Price is Right”.
As it turns out, nothing really sold. No one wanted out $7 fax machine or our $10 tape deck. (And I ended up not even putting out about 75% of the CDs we took to sell. When it came time to put them on the table, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I also changed my mind about selling my old mountain bike and a few other things.) I did sell a handful of Ypsipanties though, and a few t-shirts. Economically speaking, I probably would have made more collecting bottles, but it was fun just sitting outside and talking with people. (Today was unseasonably warm and sunny here in Michigan.) One guy almost punched me when he found out that his girlfriend had spent twelve bucks on a pair of panties, but, other than that, things were good.
The best part was meeting the half-dozen or so readers of this site who came up to me and introduced themselves for the first time. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have handled the attention so well, but I was fortunate in that a very nice couple came by about halfway through the event, handing out beers to the vendors. This picture of me, taken by local gadfly Brett Schutzman, shows my new invention — available for sale at the December 2nd Shadow Art Fair — “The Impromptu Ypsi Beer Coozy.” (Special thanks to the elected official who walked by, saw my beer, and, then, when he saw my “I’ve just been busted” face, told me not to worry about it. I think, “I’m not a cop,” was his exact quote. )
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It’s a sock.
What’s a sock? That bulge in your pants?
Just what we need — a way to keep beer warm.
Just what we need — a way to keep beer warm.
Sorry to confuse you. That’s not a bulge in my pants. It’s a fax machine.
Is there some kind of a class I can take to learn how to become a gadfly? I’m interested.
How ’bout that pop corn cart? Did anybody buy that? I’d of been all up in that bitch.
The popcorn cart wasn’t for sale. It was being used by the guy in the space next to me, the owner of the Depot Town five and dime. According to the note on it, it was previously used at Tiger Stadium in the mid-1960’s. I thought that was pretty cool.
Go Tiges! Hey, we are going to be up your way Thanksgiving time…we should try and get together.
And we are seeing you blossum into a beautiful gadfly right before our eyes!
The foot powder must keep the beer cold, Doug. I don’t know how it works – it just does.
So my Dad was in town? Who dug him up?
‘Gadfly’ is a hereditary title, actually.
The best you can do is marry a gadfly, in the hopes of producing children which would become gadflies themselves at a certain age (generally around third grade, which is usually the same time that those prone to become rakish wags, dour doras, or curmudgeons also develop).
Do tell about that rakish wag that sits to the left in the photo. Did you offer a beer in a sock to him or is he actually a creepy mannequin that you were selling?
I always thought gadflys had to start out as gadmaggots or some other form of gadlarvae.
I’ve even heard of a superstition that gadflies spontaneously generate in feces.
That
That
That “man,” Ken, is just one of the outer husks I travel around in. (If you’re unfamiliar with the concept, rent the documentary “Cacoon.”) I ended up selling it to a fellow Ypsi blogger who plans to use it to get into several of the local establishments that no longer welcome him.
I came, saw, bought a hat, and admired a lovely Pewabic pottery vase I coveted, but could not reason. I was a little too shy to say hello without a beer or two myself — sorry if that was rude. Then we ate pizza and had mojitos at Aubrees- pretty decent afternoon!
Make mine a wool sock filled with crushed ice.