Today it came to my attention, as many things do (through general revelation), that Garage Sales are a beautiful American institution. One of the primary values upon which our country supposedly functions is the right to free enterprise. The blood of the entreprenuer (who invented spell czech?) runs rich in our cholesterol choked veins. I would argue that Garage Sales are a beautiful part of what it means to be an American.
Anyone with a home can (and inevitably will) hold a garage sale at some point in their lives. The garage itself is not even a requisite for this ceremony. Many garage sales are infact held on lawns rather than in garages. This lets the goods air out. And lord knows some of these vendings need the air. A garage sale is a chance for you to get rid of shit that has been in your posession for no good reason for far too long. That battery charger that doesn't work, those beta-max tapes, the macaroni noodle picture frame Junior made at camp before he went to juvie.
This most recent garage sale I attended was selling a piece of shit bike which has been sawed apart and put back together into a monstrosity that can only be described as "giraffe-like". One of my companions bought it out of irony, but I know that he intends to fix it up. Maybe one day he'll sell it at his own garage sale. God dammit, it's beautiful.
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