A fellow blogger pointed this post by Tim Barcz out to me last week. Sad and poignant, Selling Your Life For A Quarter at a Time is one of those posts that stop and make you think. My friend also noted, "Unfortunately, the spammers also found the essay and decided to fill it with garbage links. So much for poignant." Don’t even get me started about that.
"Last Saturday we again noticed a lot of people over at Carl’s house. This time though there was a new sign out front in addition to the "For Sale by owner", this one read "Tag Sale". Sarah and I walked over and looked through the garage and then followed some other patrons into the house. I was somewhat surprised at what I saw. Everything was in it’s place, where Carl had presumably left it. Only now, on each item there was a piece of masking tape indicating a price. We looked around, feeling odd the whole time. The difficult part for me was entering Carl’s room. There in his closet, a nice suit, for a few bucks. Shoes, nice, black, obviously cared for by their shining exterior were on sale for 50 cents. There on the shelf in the closet, a hat. The kind of hat you don’t see anymore and only seems appropriate on men over 70 years old. The same hat I see my grandfather wearing to church on Sunday mornings in pictures. The hat, a mere 25 cents."
Humans are collectors, aren’t we. Today I thought fleetingly about taking every book down in my library for example. Maybe I would put them back in the categories, Music, Computers, Fiction, and Vintage. Yeah, you bet. But not this weekend because we will be visiting with our son’s family and new baby Addie.
I’ve been collecting sheet music lately in three categories; sax quartet, jazz combo, and big band. The music is in a series of file cabinets. I wonder if anyone would save them and use them after Suzy and I’m gone. And then there’s my music method book, CD, and musical instrument collections. I remember when the Leblanc Music company went out of business. They bulk sold most of the instruments from the museum! I’m guessing the vintage but pristine saxes and clarinets went for pennies on the dollar.
Okay now, I know that the value of any person can’t/shouldn’t be added up based on her/his belongings. But still the idea of people pawing through the belongings of a recently deceased person is kinda depressing. So I guess I need to give everything away before I die so that maybe a sax player will inherit my sax and a collector will cherish that vintage clarinet from the 1800s. That assumes that I have some warning before I kick the bucket.