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A man in an older home near the center of town holds a couple of garage sales every summer. In a very old garage in the back of his property he sells various items one might find at your garden variery flea market. In the past I have found some albums there, nothing great but was always told he had many more in the house. So when driving by yesterday I thought it might be worth a quick stop.I found nothing worthwile and when I was about to leave the man asked me if I would be interested in a couple of stacks of "collectable" jazz Lps for $40.00. Only problem was he had to retrieve them from under some "stuff". If I wanted to come inside he would let me look through them. Figuring I had nothing to lose I followed him into the house.
He opened the back door and led me into what I think may have been the kitchen. I couldn't tell for sure because of the floor to ceiling junk. There was what appeared to be a sink but it was hard to tell from the stuff on top.
He led me to the 'living' room by a small path between the floor to near ceiling piles of of what appeared to be decades of flea market junk. Being inside would not have been so bad if it wasn't for the smell. Even as I write this I can sense the smell. Nothing like I have ever experience before in my life. Kind of cross between the smell of something rotting and some unknown substance.
In the living room he determined that it may take a while to find the boxes of albums and if I would come back tomorrow he would have them for me.
I stopped back today figuring he would have found the boxes and have them out back in his garage as he was still having his sale on Sunday. It turned out that he had found them but I had to go back into the house. He started walking back toward the house and I stood there thinking do I really want to go back in there. Well, my desire to see these boxes of "collectable" jazz albums overcame common sense and I went back in.
The smell was still there and seemed even worse than I had remembered. The boxes were there and I stated to quickly go through them. Of course there was no collectable jazz just a bunch of run of the mill stuff. I thanked the man and said there was nothing there I needed and quickly left, using my elbows to open the back door so I wouldn't have to touch it.
Common sense sometimes gets left behind when looking for vinyl. Perhaps that's the moral of this story.
Follow Ups:
It is at every estate sale where the wife died a minimum of five years before the husband perished...it is that lovely stomach turning sickly sweet smell.Last month I had a similar experience...no good LP's...but did get a bunch of good parts, tubes, etc.
The basement (and every other room for that matter) looked like a bomb went off...and was filled with every obsolete piece of electrical test equipment and labratory gear you could think of...plus tons of early 1980's PC's. The late owner was employeed as an engineer for several firms in NJ, and seemed to take home EVERYTHING that the corporations he worked for tossed in the dumpster.
We did find his 1960's porno stash complete with a copy of the "Houswife's Guide to Auto Erotic Devices in the Home" (strangely we did find about 10 vacuum cleaners in the house...and the cover did depict a woman and a vacuum...)...hidden behind a 10 year collection of electronics magazines in the basement. We also strangely found his vacuum tube stash in his bedroom...which really makes me wonder.
Advanced OCD perhaps??? Dumping the porn in the basement...but hiding your tubes in your underwear drawer???
/
Tom
A old gent died in his house took awhile till they found out he died.They couldnt even get his body out of the home because of the pile. After they got him out fire department burned down the place.Sad, hope Fred doesnt end up like this.Would be a shame to burn up all that vinyl a TTs parts etc.
Hep Me ! I be trapped down here ! after the Mountain of Lenco's and Rek O Kuts collapsed ;-)
a dead animal or body had been discovered under the pile...It sort of has that Silence of the Lambs or Seven vibe to it at first! Great ,now I'm gonna have the lines from the first film in my head,"Come here Precious...It puts the lotion on!"...ahhhh fava beans...And I thought standing mext to a lady with a nasty hairlip was my worst experience at a vinyl shop once!.....Finally had to tell my girfriend's step mom if she could please move out of the way.Never take unenthused aquaintances along on a vinyl hunt! No, it ain't comedy night,folks;She really had a hairlip.
Matt67B.
Born to tweak and tweak I shall.
...form of mental disease. Don't know what it'd be clasified under, but it's pretty common. I have a co worker who kept his trailer the same way...we're talking MOUNTAINS and CANYONS of shit! He finally had to give his trailer away, because he couldn't sell it, thusly. He's well into trashing his new one, in the exact same manner...sigh!
I won an eBay auction for a couple of LPs of the Busch quartet, and the guy was very insistent on posting them to me although he was only about half a mile away. I just thought this was crazy, I mean they were apparently vvNM and he wanted me to pay more, in order to have them put through the postal system. We argued by email for a while and eventually he agreed, reluctantly, that I could come round and collect...Well, the house was a little Victorian terrace, and so completely full of vinyl that you couldn't even open the front door fully. I had to squeeze in sideways, and then he led me through canyons between towers of vinyl as tall as me to some place inside the maze. Most of these records were stacked flat like piles of plates, so you couldn't realistically get to any except the top ones on the front stacks. The weight on the bottom ones must have been immense. It made me wonder how much force you need to iron out the grooves in a record.
Deep inside the canyons - you couldn't really tell one room from another - was a space with a chair and some actual furniture, and he had my two discs there. Needless to say I looked at them very closely indeed, but they were in beautiful condition, must have come from somewhere near the top!
Marc" ...form of mental disease. Don't know what it'd be clasified under, but it's pretty common "
You're right ! It's a specific version of OCD, those afflicted are commonly referred to as hoarders, it's presently considered incurable, there are no known no known pharmacological approaches (In my case I medicated myself with high quality Bourbon and a variety of whatever else was available (when I could afford it,
it never did anything for my OCD, however, I didn't care any longer ;-)The only known therapeutic strategy is maintaining an awareness.
There are documented examples of elderly "Hoarders" who perished
in cave In's of the tall unstable stacks of books, periodicals and or newspapers they've hoarded, fortunately to date there have been no
known instances of fatalities due to turntables, tonearms or cartridges, I'm not certain about records ?Regards Fred
Just kiddin moving in 2 weeks so start working out, have some loudspeakers, vinyl and movies on vinyl for you to tote.
Or worse......
Often manifested by stacks of newspapers throughout a house, but can be hoarding of any useless objects.Sound familiar? :-)
Around here it's known as Stacks Disease. Many years ago in my dumpster diver days I spent three 80 or 90 degree days with four other dumpster divers hauling basement to attic crap out of a vacant, unfinished house owned by an 80+ yo retired Navy commander.The city had told the guy he had to clean it up and finish it or they would annex the property for a bus terminal. We were to get anything we wanted to keep in exchange for hauling all the junk out to some jumbo size dumpsters that a friend of his had rented. Got decent booty out of it - about 5000 tubes and some other good parts, Craftsman, Dyna, Heathkit, couple of fairly collectable TVs, etc. Even got a few laughs when we found his stash of 60's vintage nudie magazines. But we had to haul two or three BIG dumpster loads of crap like a mountain of broken telephones, boxes and boxes of 50's era radar scope CRTs, dead clock radios, corroded TV aerials, ancient and crappy test gear, tons of old magazines, several 50 gal. drums full of homemade wine that had gone to vinegar, hundreds of pounds of rusted out transformers sitting in the muddy basement, and tons of unidentifiable, musty trash.
By the third day it seemed like the clearing process was slowing down for some reason. Turned out the old nutcase was going down the road to St. Vinnies and buying more crap to throw in almost as fast as we were hauling it out. At that point I got in my truck and drove away.
That kind of experience helps one to remember not to end up in the same state. A couple years ago I helped a friend completely fill his Suburban with about 2/3 of the tube stash in my storage, which he promptly hauled to his house. I think he's still married - but I'm not absolutely certain of that.
...a friend of mine told me where he got suckered into helping somebody with their computer problems. The house was similar to what you described, with petrified dog poop all over the place to boot. But the worst part was that the man's young naked children were hanging all over my friend as he tried to quickly fix a few things and get out of there.-Bry
Does one poop by booting? Or does one boot the poop?
I hope your friend called Social services ?
As with a Dysfunctional environment like that, some of those kids could conceivably end up becoming Corporate lobbyists, Congressmen or sadly even Senators ;-)
Regards Fred
My first reaction was to laugh, but then I got to thinking, isn't it funny that public elections dredge the worse scoundrels in our society?And, do even get me started on Corporate lobbyists ...
Jack
Jack-My Salmon fishing and shooting partner Ken, is a brilliant Psychiatrist, one night after dinner he told me that being mildly Sociopath was most definitely being selected for in our society,
the more hard corps or pure Sociopathic personality types end up in the joint or dying prematurely, where the milder Sociopathic personality types have a tremendous advantage over the rest of us
as they're not constrained by compassion or empathy, a highly significant advantage in the post modern World of Business
as well as politics.The Lawyer is after all the larval stage of a politician :-0
Kind Regards Fred
I guess some of us are just happy to live out our lives in prepubescence.My ethics have constantly gotten in the way of my thriving. Occasionally, they stand in the way of basic family survival.
That's what happens when the attainment of money is not #1. It doesn't mean that I have not experienced happiness and joy, however.
Lastly, I extend my regrets for becoming momentarily serious. I gotta work on that.
axolotl
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