Sometimes you come across a tool that is so exquisite that you immediately know that it will be with you for the rest of your life. In that instant of supreme tool recognition, you recognize that among your various duties, you have just added custodian of the brass garden nozzle. From here on out, you will protect it from harm.
Had a leak, added o-ring
Was certainly a flat washer originally, but, as custodian, we are afforded certain allowances in substitutions
During a quick Friday garage sale stop, I bought this illustration for one dollar. Although I realize it is not ironclad provenance, I believe this card was given to a solider on their way to WWII.
Although I can't draw with a toot, this dollar trifle really inspires me to get a cartooning book to be able to create personal notes like this at the times it matters the most.
The case could be made that this garage sale found "Have a Happy Day... Cadillac Style" mug is nothing but a cheap piece of swag that denigrates the monumental purchase of a new Caddy. When I bought a new car, all I got was a survey to rate everything from the cleanliness of the washroom to the efficacy of the credit department. Ostensibly, my agreeing to the task of filling out the survey would create a better customer experience for the next buyer, but it just felt like I was being asked to do some work.
Comparitively, if I had received a mug emblazoned with my name, I would have been sure to mention that on the comment card but big companies end up taking themselves way too seriously. If the manufacturers can't lighten up, then the dealers should rock it Cadillac Style.
Having purchased the shellacked page from Low Rider magazine earlier in the day, I didn't assemble the above lowriding tableau until I returned home from this week's garage saling and unloaded my finds. The 1979 Cadillac was covered in dust and found in a box of miscellany at another sale. From the 1950's through the 1970's, when you bought a new car you would receive a promotional model as a bonus. At some point, the Big Three decided that a plastic pint-size replica was a tacky gift for the purchaser of a new Cadillac.
The classic French bistro match holder makes me want to smoke a hundred Gitanes and debate existentialism.
With two bikes destined for Coco's and an old Raleigh Sprite for the Mister Jalopy Stable of Modest Bicycles, it was a pretty fruitful day of garage saling. Summer has definitely arrived.
In addition to the bikes, I purchased what may be the saddest Boston Terrier to ever grace an embroidered iron-on patch. The poor bastard looks so disgruntled, one must assume that his adjustable mortgage loan just reset from the teaser rate. No lost bone, no matter how magnificent in stature, could justify that sour puss.
More on the Raleigh later, but do you think that leather Brooks saddle is salvageable? Or will it crack in two at first pedal?
Occasionally, I find stuff that I forgot that I had. These occasional discoveries are one of the benefits and penalties of serious garage saling.
Completely forgotten, I recently came across this wood acorn which seems to be a thimble-less thimble case. Inside is a spool of coarse thread with a hole drilled in the center which I assume is for a needle or two. After threading on some new thread and adding needles, I am certain I will have the most handsome mending kit in town.
At some level, I am always outfitting for a grand adventure.
If we were to believe Martha Stewart, estate sales would be filled with sandwich glass and butter churns labeled with crisp white price tags. In actuality, intrepid explorers pick through all-manner-of-god-awful only to find portly mailmen with wasp nest heads.
Today's garage sales netted 2 Schwinn bicycles, 3 bike seats, a pair of 20" wheels and a Technics turntable, all destined for Coco's.
What about for me? A Fred Arbogast Hula Popper fishing lure, a beanbag frog and a half a bottle of L'Occitane Lavender Linen Water.
The beanbag frog just had too sweet a look on his face to pass up. Obviously homemade, it would seem that somebody, somewhere, is short one paisley polyester pant suit.
Fishing lures are continually interesting to me. My pal Coop went temporarily insane for fishing lures, culminating in a 156 photo Flickr set. I spent a lunch break naming as many as I could, like the Big Mama Thornton and the Table Scraps.
If it were not for parents and school principals, I would have carried a dagger like this every day of my grade school life. With the free wheeling latitude that adults enjoyed in the 1970's, I could not imagine why any grown-up wouldn't have a skull dagger tucked in their boot to carve apples, impress girls and stab marauding pirates. Of course, the buttoned-down new millennium frowns on such weapons, even if they are sinister only in a comic book way.
The toolbox illustrates the sort of sickness I have. I can never say no to a copper skillet (no matter how small), a Fireking Azurite bowl (no matter the flaws), figural Mexican salt and pepper shakers (no matter how chipped), a pattern wheel (no matter how many already owned), a novelty donkey (no matter how bug-eyed) or a wood handled screwdriver (no matter how rusty.)
Sure, it is awfully difficult to find Rookwood or Roseville pottery at garage sales in this hyper-Googlized world of everybody knowing everything but there is still plenty of Frankoma out there! When I started garage saling, I was enchanted by the clunky, vividly colored Fiesta and Bauer but my tastes have mellowed and now I prefer the more organic feel of Frankoma. With its mottled, irregular glazes, the Frankoma has an almost Japanese look that resonates with me.
Always wanted the exterminator without having to steal one for myself. Let's see if I can keep from getting sued!
This magnificent "Magna Kloth" tin, complete with the Kloth inside has found its way into my collection.
Next time I am in a bad mood, I am going to pull this package down off the shelf. I find the late 50s googie design and color scheme pretty cheery, and the playful use of the letter K is a mood lightener as well, but it is the font in "Magna Kloth" that blows me away. It's pure Proto-COOP House Industries.
Though holiday weekends are usually lackluster for garage sales, this weekend proved the bold exception as I was able to unearth some exquisite stuff. Nothing valuable, no big tool haul, no fleet of bicycles, just a wonderful sunny day of quiet treasures.
Some highlights:
Little Folks Croquet Set - Though I already own a croquet set or two, this little charmer was too much to resist. A rainy day in the parlor could not be sweeter than spent eating brownies and engaging in a mean little game of croquet.
Trim Line - Looks like a chunk of wood but the Trim Line is an ingenious device that adds a square work surface for desktop drafting, as well as pencil storage. Only after love and time, space is the greatest gift. The fellow I bought this from told me that when he was a child, his father owned a form printing business. He would sit at his father's side late at night to watch him mock-up forms for client approval.
Rocks - Coco's Variety is planning to engage in a new business line - We Tumble 4 Ya. Customers will bring in stones and we will tumble them in our corporate bank of rock tumblers. This bag of partially tumbled stones will be a wonderful inventory for those clients who do not have rocks of their own.
Turntable - We sell non-collectible, serviceable record players at Coco's.
Rocks and Minerals of California - Although I am not a book collector, I will buy any books about California ghost towns, jeep trails, rock hounding or the Mojave desert.
I have no idea who "DR. HITZ" was, or what finally did him in, but I sure am glad that somebody had the good sense to set up a memorial hydro race in his honor. Otherwise, I never would have had a chance to own this 1961 DR. HITZ MEMORIAL CSH 3RD. trophy.
The base of the trophy is made from inch-thick solid mahogany, but the bevel makes it feel even more substantial. The wood was given a thick, glossy clearcoat and really invokes the feel of a classic wooden boat. The dynamic rear flourish, reminiscent of late 1950's roadside sign architecture presents a stylized hydroplane roostertail.
Makes me want to tie a crude wooden hydroplane to the back of my stingray with a 10 foot cord and race the neighbor kids around the cul-de-sac.
Even if I had seen a perfect Tempest arcade game for $1, or a flathead signed by the ghost of Vic Edelbrock Sr., I would have had to pass them up as we were filled to the brim with bicycles. Derelict parts bikes, carbon fiber race bikes, and everything in between, are all destined for Coco's long row of bikes. An embarrassment of riches, to be sure.
With a haul like that, the only other items I was able to purchase were those I could keep on my person. By the end of the day I had become a parody of myself, draped in the crocheted throw like a shawl, with pockets jammed full of disposable Swiss watches, boot oil and eyecups.
Found last week at a Burbank garage sale, I have been mildly obsessed with the quality of illustration on this puzzle. I have scrutinized each piece and can declare the boot, the red chair and the magpie to be my favorites. If I had 15 t-shirts, each emblazoned with a different puzzle image, I would be very content to wear different one each day and embrace a biweekly laundry schedule.
The puzzle pieces make up a sweet little utopia. Each morning, awake to check your CLOCK and crawl out of bed with your TEDDY BEAR and DOLL. While still in pajamas, pull on your RED BOOTS and wander to the breakfast nook of your charming COTTAGE as the CAT scurries across your path. Before settling into your RED CHAIR, collect the breakfast eggs from your CHICKEN and give your DUCK a sweet pat on the head. On your way back to the house, check the MAGPIE'S nest in the PINE TREE to see if any new shiny objects have appeared since last inspection. Return to the kitchen with your DOG to fill the BLUE PITCHER with juice and bring the COFFEE POT to the table. Consider, briefly, buying a SAILBOAT and just as quickly reject the idea as being too much work.
I like the idea of these images as shirts so much. Any illustrators out there willing and able to mimic this style for t-shirts? Email us! Paying gig!
The difference between a terrific day of garage saling and a pointless effort of lackluster disappointment can be reduced to the presence of a single solid sale. Hopefully, you will find a sale run by an engaged, interested individual with skills and obsessions that are not unlike your own.
Not until Sunday did I realize that the best Saturday stop was an estate sale. Although it was not advertised as such, in retrospect, all evidence points to estate sale. The folks helping out didn't really knew what they were selling and were seeing many of the things for the first time. The Chinese socket sets were the same price as the Snap-on. In the fury of gathering my purchases, I didn't grasp the nuanced interactions of the principles. Upon reflection, I was able to piece together the bittersweet story of the biker buddies helping the widow sell off the contents of the garage.
Since I don't work in a commercial shop where tools tend to walk away, I have never engraved my tools. Of course, since I buy tools used, many of my wrenches and ratchets have been engraved with the names of the previous owners. It doesn't dissuade from purchase and I like to think about the individuals who built their world with the same hammer that I now build mine.
While I was cleaning the bitchin Santa Cruz skateboard seen above, I discovered that the engraved name matched that on the tools I bought from the same sale. The circa 1980 skateboard dates from the same era when I was skateboarding, while the tools and supplies I bought are exactly the sorts of things I use now. The previous owner and I were close in age, had the same skateboarding tastes in 1980 and very similar interests at the time of his death. I bought Keith's Valentine radar detector, a half can of PB Rust Buster, a tube of heat sink compound, a Wavetec multimeter, a can of Marvel Mystery Oil, 2 boxes of 12 gauge shotgun slugs, an assortment of brushes for cleaning mag wheels, a Weller soldering iron, a dagger bought from a comic book ad, a Rigid PVC cutter, a couple of metal bumping hammers, a Mac screwdriver and a darling SK/Wayne 1/4" set with a mixed brand collection of SK, Blackhawk and Snap-on ratchets, sockets and extensions.
It was not dissimilar from shopping at my own estate sale. These deep sea suburb explorations are not always a lighthearted romp.
This seemingly benign book celebrating the appeal of the common lovebird is actually a stealthy attempt to horrify the reader with extremely gory photos of parrot diseases. The juxtaposition of topics in a single volume seems almost too sinister. It appears to be a legit attempt to leverage the classic Ace Double Novel format, but I can't help to wonder if it isn't the work of an artist with extremely mixed feelings about birds.
The classic paperback gimmick - the original Ace Double Novel
Link to the stomach turning back cover photo. WARNING: It is disgusting.
Ideally, all garage sale bicycles would have been ridden lightly, maintained religiously and stored tenderly as they waited for me and my twenty dollar bill but that just isn't the reality of the garage sale bikes. More often, they have gone feral like this slumbering beast. Despite the deferred maintenance, this old girl is difficult to resist having been born in Chicago then licensed in Los Angeles. A distinguished provenance of two top American cities.
Dinosaurs and Robots is a new blog about objects by Mister Jalopy and Mark Frauenfelder.
Rather than focus on the newest trend, we will seek authentic, handy, rarefied, disgusting, illuminating, delicious, mysterious, intoxicating, commonplace, historic, intensely personal, entertaining and enlightened objects, both priceless heirlooms and exquisite trash.
Had a leak, added o-ring
Was certainly a flat washer originally, but, as custodian,
Perfectly lovely
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