Thankfully, this is just a hobby.
Tomorrow marks 200 days since I first started doing "the eBay thing" and I seem to have my spreadsheet of transactions constantly open with calculated fields all in a row. I have learned quite a bit -- made a few mistakes here and there -- but overall, the experience has been positive. For what it's worth, I'm netting a "profit" (if I do not factor in mileage, gas and my time).
I can't really count August and September of this year since I didn't do anything, so I wonder how cyclical this process really is. I had thought that this upcoming holiday season might see a slight boost in sales, and they have -- I'm overjoyed that finally, some of those silly "Faithful Fuzzies" bear figurines I had purchased are starting to sell. They would make for good gifts to military folks but I was starting to wonder about them since they had been sitting quietly in boxes for the past few months waiting for their moment to shine. I have yet to "break even" on that purchase, but at least it's not a complete wash like the comic books.
Now, to be fair, I have yet to list said comic books. I'm just a bit skittish about doing so since I know that comic book collectors are a rare breed of bird and I'm not quite up on how to "grade" them (like I can with records). The other thing I'm concerned about is that after looking them all up (there's over 250 of them), if I'm lucky -- again, break even.
The internet is a fickle mistress. I really have no idea what will sell and what won't. Things that seem to be a dead ringer for me (Beatles, The Who, Duran Duran) take longer than usual, whereas Strawberry Shortcake's Country Jambouree LP went pretty quick. Well, strike that -- it takes a certain kind of person to be interested in a Japanese EP of Duran^2's "Girls On Film". I shouldn't put personal preferences in place on these types of things, though I suspect I'd rather meet yon New Waver for a pint first -- more to talk about.
Everyone has their own perception of worth and in some cases, they care to share. I received a note that a book sold because it had to do with a specific period of Cambodian history that someone lived through. Another person took the blank reel-to-reel tapes off my hands -- what will they end up recording, I wonder? Someone in Puerto Rico will soon be jamming out to Michael Jackson's "You Rock My World" while on the other coast, someone will be enjoying a white label 45 of Elvis' "Viva Las Vegas".
I, too, succumbed to the urge to spend this holiday weekend and now have a re-issue of the Swans' first EP on pink vinyl. Santa comes early to my house.
Of course, this was a purchase at the local record shop. The "I Need To Only Visit With Just X Amount Of Cash On Hand And Leave My Wallet Behind" Store . A stupid mistake on my part concerning packing a copy of Led Zeppelin II resulting in discounting the final sale led me to invest in some new sleeves for those pricey records. It's a small price to pay to maintain my positive ratings and I really do feel for the fellow who was expecting an EX- but got a VG+ because I didn't think.
So, the holidays are truly on us. I need to relist a few items that I think, by rights, should sell and a few that, by rights, probably shouldn't. I'm hoping that estate sales are not like garage sales and keep popping up (as yard sales are now all but finished until spring, judging by the frequency of listings on CraigsList) for I'd like to keep the upward trend going. We shall see.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Saturday, November 16, 2013
The Mystery of the Disappearing Sales
I write this as I watch three small bidding wars happening as auctions end... The 1966 Batman Television Series Theme LP went for a few dollars more than I anticipated... *KA-POW!* *ZOINK!* "Christmas Eve with Colonel Sanders" will finally make his chicken dance out of my home thankfully for a small profit. I was starting to get tired of looking at him dozing off... David Gilmour's self titled LP will be Running Like Hell as well.
Unfortunately, the other listings didn't go, so I'll probably give them a break. No one has any love for Jethro Tull, apparently. Such is life.
I do this after returning back from a two hour jaunt around town in search of estate sales with incorrect addresses and garage sales advertised for yesterday. I hadn't really planned on going out, but the weather's nice and I don't really have anything else on my plate until the afternoon.
After not finding the third estate sale, I started winding my way back into an area of town I hadn't really explored. I have a good inner compass and so don't mind meandering around winding roads keeping an eye out for garage sale signs -- and a few I spied, however there was absolutely nothing of interest.
I am a bit frustrated by this, but I am reminded of hunters of yore -- following trails that fade off into the wilderness.
I find myself in a completely unknown area of town and am getting tired of tracking specters of sales. I am considering this jaunt to be a wash. Well, I can't find motherlodes at every stop.
...or can I? Not a sale, but I look up and see a bright yellow sign glaring at me: SABADO: BARBACOA. Why not? Nothing brightens one day like a homemade salsa topping juicy, fatty Mexican barbecue. Well, perhaps finding a decent sale... no, no need to be bitter. Besides... no thinking now... barbacoa breakfast tacos. Nom nom nom.
My rusty Spanish is good enough to score me a small plate of steaming fresh tortilla happiness and orange soda.
At least the mystery of what to have for breakfast has been successfully solved.
Now, the next mystery is if this morning's buyers will pay within the next half hour so I can ship 'em out.
Unfortunately, the other listings didn't go, so I'll probably give them a break. No one has any love for Jethro Tull, apparently. Such is life.
I do this after returning back from a two hour jaunt around town in search of estate sales with incorrect addresses and garage sales advertised for yesterday. I hadn't really planned on going out, but the weather's nice and I don't really have anything else on my plate until the afternoon.
After not finding the third estate sale, I started winding my way back into an area of town I hadn't really explored. I have a good inner compass and so don't mind meandering around winding roads keeping an eye out for garage sale signs -- and a few I spied, however there was absolutely nothing of interest.
I am a bit frustrated by this, but I am reminded of hunters of yore -- following trails that fade off into the wilderness.
I find myself in a completely unknown area of town and am getting tired of tracking specters of sales. I am considering this jaunt to be a wash. Well, I can't find motherlodes at every stop.
...or can I? Not a sale, but I look up and see a bright yellow sign glaring at me: SABADO: BARBACOA. Why not? Nothing brightens one day like a homemade salsa topping juicy, fatty Mexican barbecue. Well, perhaps finding a decent sale... no, no need to be bitter. Besides... no thinking now... barbacoa breakfast tacos. Nom nom nom.
My rusty Spanish is good enough to score me a small plate of steaming fresh tortilla happiness and orange soda.
At least the mystery of what to have for breakfast has been successfully solved.
Now, the next mystery is if this morning's buyers will pay within the next half hour so I can ship 'em out.
Friday, November 15, 2013
It's Always The One You Least Expect
It's been a while since I've updated this blog. There are many reasons, but mostly it boils down to "real life" interrupting during the months of August and September. For those two long, hot and dry months, I batted goose eggs in this arena because I didn't even have the time to do a single listing.
But that's okay -- life is not all adventure and thrills and pills and bellyaches. Temperatures and stress levels have dropped so I've been able to finally get back into the game. I've become a bit more picky with my time, sticking to estate sales and what I know. In comparison, last month I made an impulse buy of a huge bin of comic books. I haven't even begun to list them. I got as far as making a spreadsheet cataloging them and being rather disappointed by seeing that maybe a handful of them might bring more than a buck. I personally don't care for comic books and so... there they sit until I'm ready to deal with them as lots just to free up the space.
Instead, music is my passion and my hobby -- so I'm limiting myself primarily to records since I know a bit more about them and they bring a better feeling of satisfaction when I stumble across something interesting.
I also realize that I have quite a different taste in music than others.
In my small hometown back in the early 80's, it seemed that there were two paths of musical interest. I liked the Beatles, Pink Floyd -- these lead me down the path to psychedelic rock, space rock, progressive rock -- and then to the strangeness that I appreciate today. My peers decided to go with Led Zeppelin which in turn led to Van Halen and eventually sporting Metallica's "Metal Up Your Ass" T-shirts to get that feeling of teenage rebellion. By that time, I was well into punk and industrial and read those shirts as signs that I wouldn't have much in common as far as music is concerned. I left 80's hair metal behind. Jello Biafra nailed it for me: "like a bad laxative - it just doesn't move me, you know?"
O, the way we (used to) communicate.
I see now that on eBay, Pink Floyd is a hot subject for collectors. Rather than buy lottery tickets, I now go to estate sales hoping that some day I'll hit on the holy grail: a quadraphonic 8-track of Dark Side of the Moon or something similar. Heck, even that compilation of "Collection of Great Dance Songs" which in my mind is nothing more than a cheap "best of 70's hits" of Floyd goes for a ridiculous amount. Now that I'm settled, I will admit that I've done my fair share of bargain hunting for these items... after all, nothing gives one the feeling of a well-funded mid-life crisis of identity like an alligator skin 8-track box chock full of Floyd, Funkadelic, Bowie and a true conversation piece: Kraftwerk's "Autobahn".
"Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn", indeed. Die Autobahn des Lebens.
Recent estate sales have been doing well for me -- I've come across a few gems. I discovered a local heavy psyche rock band called "Space Opera" on a whim -- the collection at the sale had some very nice progressive rock records and I liked the cover. That one, I'm keeping. In the mix was a white label German pressing promotional of Frank Zappa's Mothers of Inventions' Live at the Fillmore 1971. Again, that one I'm keeping. As I know from earlier this year, for whatever reason, people love their Fleetwood Mac and this particular collection had quite a few in very good condition. I'm waiting on one more record to sell to push me into the black on that particular find.
Ok, Fleetwood Mac. I've started to listen to YouTube videos of some of these albums just to get my head into my buyers' mindset. (This is also how I realized that the Space Opera album had found it's "forever home" in with my keepers.) I still don't get it. Like Steely Dan or early Genesis, it just doesn't do much for me. However, I can see why someone else might like them and I'll continue to pick them up when I find them.
This brings me to yesterday -- CraigsList advertises an estate sale in one of the outlying towns. What grabs my attention is that this was a collection of items from a family that had been "transplanted from the UK sometime in the early 70's" and I note in one of the corners of the pictures what looks like records.
My mind does the symbolic math: UK + 70's = Beatles, etc. Probably worth the trip. I might even find something I like!
The record collection isn't as big as I hoped. However, sure enough -- two Beatles albums, solo albums by McCartney & Lennon... normally not that big of a deal however they are the UK releases and therefore are worth a wee bit more. A few kids' albums... I found that DisneyLand records do eventually sell -- nothing sexy, but hey... it all adds up over time and ... well, see above about Kraftwerk on 8-track. :/
Another interesting find is The Who's "Live at Leeds" album. The jacket is a bit beat up, but the inserts at a quick glance look interesting and I decide to take the gamble. At home, I see that one of the inserts has to do with Woodstock. Thanks to Wikipedia, I've successfully ID'ed this album as the German first pressing -- one of 500 copies. I get that warm fuzzy feeling.
So I spend some time last night listing happily away. There are a few other small items of note, nothing serious (so I think). All in all, if everything goes, it was worth my time and I even got a strange 67-68 era print featuring a Yellow Submarine-style drawing of a turtle along with the poem "The Little Turtle" by Vachel Lindsay. Silly, I know... but hey. It's the little surprises that make this fun...
Around 1 AM, my phone chimes -- *kaching!* ... an item sold. Well, ok... probably one of the Beatles records or maybe even that Who album... I turn over.
My phone chirps again - buyer has paid. Ok, fine... I'm curious... what is it?
"Your eBay item sold! STRYPER - The Yellow And Black Attack LP"
...
whut.
I look at it again to be sure. Yup, the Stryper album that I picked up for a laugh. Stryper, one of those hair metal bands from the 80's from which I would run screaming, covering my ears in horror. Stryper... with bad guitar riffs, poor production and of course, the overtly Christian themes.
Out of all the records that I have up for auction, it's Stryper that sells within 6 hours of listing. I haz teh lulz.
Methinks someone else is funding their mid-life crisis of identity. Well, good for them.
But that's okay -- life is not all adventure and thrills and pills and bellyaches. Temperatures and stress levels have dropped so I've been able to finally get back into the game. I've become a bit more picky with my time, sticking to estate sales and what I know. In comparison, last month I made an impulse buy of a huge bin of comic books. I haven't even begun to list them. I got as far as making a spreadsheet cataloging them and being rather disappointed by seeing that maybe a handful of them might bring more than a buck. I personally don't care for comic books and so... there they sit until I'm ready to deal with them as lots just to free up the space.
Instead, music is my passion and my hobby -- so I'm limiting myself primarily to records since I know a bit more about them and they bring a better feeling of satisfaction when I stumble across something interesting.
I also realize that I have quite a different taste in music than others.
In my small hometown back in the early 80's, it seemed that there were two paths of musical interest. I liked the Beatles, Pink Floyd -- these lead me down the path to psychedelic rock, space rock, progressive rock -- and then to the strangeness that I appreciate today. My peers decided to go with Led Zeppelin which in turn led to Van Halen and eventually sporting Metallica's "Metal Up Your Ass" T-shirts to get that feeling of teenage rebellion. By that time, I was well into punk and industrial and read those shirts as signs that I wouldn't have much in common as far as music is concerned. I left 80's hair metal behind. Jello Biafra nailed it for me: "like a bad laxative - it just doesn't move me, you know?"
O, the way we (used to) communicate.
I see now that on eBay, Pink Floyd is a hot subject for collectors. Rather than buy lottery tickets, I now go to estate sales hoping that some day I'll hit on the holy grail: a quadraphonic 8-track of Dark Side of the Moon or something similar. Heck, even that compilation of "Collection of Great Dance Songs" which in my mind is nothing more than a cheap "best of 70's hits" of Floyd goes for a ridiculous amount. Now that I'm settled, I will admit that I've done my fair share of bargain hunting for these items... after all, nothing gives one the feeling of a well-funded mid-life crisis of identity like an alligator skin 8-track box chock full of Floyd, Funkadelic, Bowie and a true conversation piece: Kraftwerk's "Autobahn".
"Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn", indeed. Die Autobahn des Lebens.
Recent estate sales have been doing well for me -- I've come across a few gems. I discovered a local heavy psyche rock band called "Space Opera" on a whim -- the collection at the sale had some very nice progressive rock records and I liked the cover. That one, I'm keeping. In the mix was a white label German pressing promotional of Frank Zappa's Mothers of Inventions' Live at the Fillmore 1971. Again, that one I'm keeping. As I know from earlier this year, for whatever reason, people love their Fleetwood Mac and this particular collection had quite a few in very good condition. I'm waiting on one more record to sell to push me into the black on that particular find.
Ok, Fleetwood Mac. I've started to listen to YouTube videos of some of these albums just to get my head into my buyers' mindset. (This is also how I realized that the Space Opera album had found it's "forever home" in with my keepers.) I still don't get it. Like Steely Dan or early Genesis, it just doesn't do much for me. However, I can see why someone else might like them and I'll continue to pick them up when I find them.
This brings me to yesterday -- CraigsList advertises an estate sale in one of the outlying towns. What grabs my attention is that this was a collection of items from a family that had been "transplanted from the UK sometime in the early 70's" and I note in one of the corners of the pictures what looks like records.
My mind does the symbolic math: UK + 70's = Beatles, etc. Probably worth the trip. I might even find something I like!
The record collection isn't as big as I hoped. However, sure enough -- two Beatles albums, solo albums by McCartney & Lennon... normally not that big of a deal however they are the UK releases and therefore are worth a wee bit more. A few kids' albums... I found that DisneyLand records do eventually sell -- nothing sexy, but hey... it all adds up over time and ... well, see above about Kraftwerk on 8-track. :/
Another interesting find is The Who's "Live at Leeds" album. The jacket is a bit beat up, but the inserts at a quick glance look interesting and I decide to take the gamble. At home, I see that one of the inserts has to do with Woodstock. Thanks to Wikipedia, I've successfully ID'ed this album as the German first pressing -- one of 500 copies. I get that warm fuzzy feeling.
So I spend some time last night listing happily away. There are a few other small items of note, nothing serious (so I think). All in all, if everything goes, it was worth my time and I even got a strange 67-68 era print featuring a Yellow Submarine-style drawing of a turtle along with the poem "The Little Turtle" by Vachel Lindsay. Silly, I know... but hey. It's the little surprises that make this fun...
Around 1 AM, my phone chimes -- *kaching!* ... an item sold. Well, ok... probably one of the Beatles records or maybe even that Who album... I turn over.
My phone chirps again - buyer has paid. Ok, fine... I'm curious... what is it?
"Your eBay item sold! STRYPER - The Yellow And Black Attack LP"
...
whut.
I look at it again to be sure. Yup, the Stryper album that I picked up for a laugh. Stryper, one of those hair metal bands from the 80's from which I would run screaming, covering my ears in horror. Stryper... with bad guitar riffs, poor production and of course, the overtly Christian themes.
Out of all the records that I have up for auction, it's Stryper that sells within 6 hours of listing. I haz teh lulz.
Methinks someone else is funding their mid-life crisis of identity. Well, good for them.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Not a Whole Lotta Love for Pink Floyd
When I was a wee lad, I was raised on a diet of classical music. I had a 24-record "library set" that my parents had ordered for me on a "record-a-month" plan, complete with the little booklet biographies of the different composers and a brief history of the piece. A few records of the Chipmunks, a couple others... One in particular was the green vinyl pressing of David Bowie narrating "Peter And The Wolf". I loved my record collection and would spend hours playing them. I turned 8 years old and received a mono cassette deck as a gift along with a hand-copied tape containing those current hit albums (which shall date me severely): Men At Work's "Business As Usual" and Hall & Oats' "Maneater"... and then I started listening to pop radio... Casey Kasem's American Top 40 right at the high tide of new wave. Trumpets blew, angels (or was it David Byrne?) sang, so on and so on. David Bowie's rock music amazed me -- yet it was the same fellow who was on my symphonic release! What other surprises does Rock & Roll have in store for me? I discovered blank tapes and would wait with anticipation and a finger hovered over the "record" button.
Of course, the radio single of Pink Floyd's "Another Brick In The Wall Pt 2" was in heavy rotation. "We don't need no education! We don't need no thought control!" became an anthem for a new generation of coming-of-awareness kids in the post-punk age -- or at least I thought to myself. Van Halen, right now, was hot for teacher -- but rock had a history and I started getting into exploring discographies to get a better appreciation of various bands. I also thought it was interesting how people stuck to their favorites -- I became obsessed with Pink Floyd for a while -- others could have their Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, The Who... By the time I made it back to Syd Barrett's era, I knew that my love lied with the more psychedelic side of rock.
Fast forward... Mid-90's. Chicago House/Industrial music leads down the rabbit-hole of trance techno. Birth of the internet. CD-ROMs are finally cheap and plentiful. I stumble across the existence of Pink Floyd live and remix albums. I feed my addiction and start snatching them up when I see them in record stores. Over time, I have several live recordings.
Several.
Like... "Whoa, I thought *I* was into Floyd!" from the ghost of Timothy Leary kind of "several".
How many freakin' live recordings of "Dark Side of the Moon" do I really need, for cryin' out loud!
Now, years later, I unpack the trance remixes and live shows and my first thought is "eBay". Time for them to find new homes.
Searches show very few other "ROIOs" for sale. Off we go to listing!
Five days into the auction, I wonder where the live Wall recording and the lot of trance remixes went... "eBay has removed listings which violate our intellectual property and copyright rules".
Oh snap. Whoops.
Well, so much for selling them! The remixes are... ok. As someone who's dabbled with electronica, just between you, me and the fencepost... I could do better.
Five live recordings apparently passed the blessing of the legal department. But, as if the inflatable pig-god above Battersea wanted to add more insult to injury -- a few watchers, but in the end, not a bid made.
Ha ha, Pink Floyd. Charade you are.
And yet, I get an email from a friend-of-a-friend sort of thing asking about the Led Zeppelin LPs. Hopefully they'll at least find new homes.
On the receiving end, I'm enjoying hearing David Bowie's "Diamond Dogs" on 8-track.
Of course, the radio single of Pink Floyd's "Another Brick In The Wall Pt 2" was in heavy rotation. "We don't need no education! We don't need no thought control!" became an anthem for a new generation of coming-of-awareness kids in the post-punk age -- or at least I thought to myself. Van Halen, right now, was hot for teacher -- but rock had a history and I started getting into exploring discographies to get a better appreciation of various bands. I also thought it was interesting how people stuck to their favorites -- I became obsessed with Pink Floyd for a while -- others could have their Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, The Who... By the time I made it back to Syd Barrett's era, I knew that my love lied with the more psychedelic side of rock.
Fast forward... Mid-90's. Chicago House/Industrial music leads down the rabbit-hole of trance techno. Birth of the internet. CD-ROMs are finally cheap and plentiful. I stumble across the existence of Pink Floyd live and remix albums. I feed my addiction and start snatching them up when I see them in record stores. Over time, I have several live recordings.
Several.
Like... "Whoa, I thought *I* was into Floyd!" from the ghost of Timothy Leary kind of "several".
How many freakin' live recordings of "Dark Side of the Moon" do I really need, for cryin' out loud!
Now, years later, I unpack the trance remixes and live shows and my first thought is "eBay". Time for them to find new homes.
Searches show very few other "ROIOs" for sale. Off we go to listing!
Five days into the auction, I wonder where the live Wall recording and the lot of trance remixes went... "eBay has removed listings which violate our intellectual property and copyright rules".
Oh snap. Whoops.
Well, so much for selling them! The remixes are... ok. As someone who's dabbled with electronica, just between you, me and the fencepost... I could do better.
Five live recordings apparently passed the blessing of the legal department. But, as if the inflatable pig-god above Battersea wanted to add more insult to injury -- a few watchers, but in the end, not a bid made.
Ha ha, Pink Floyd. Charade you are.
And yet, I get an email from a friend-of-a-friend sort of thing asking about the Led Zeppelin LPs. Hopefully they'll at least find new homes.
On the receiving end, I'm enjoying hearing David Bowie's "Diamond Dogs" on 8-track.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
On Death And History
Last weekend, my son and I were on our way to go bowling. He's been with me on enough of my sales jaunts now that he's almost as excited as I am when we see the signs popping up on the side of the road indicating a sale. He had just turned 6, and I guess in his old age, mortality was weighing heavily on his mind when we saw a sign that said "Estate Sale, Turn Here".
"Estate sale... that means that someone died, right, Daddy?" I confirm the grim observation as we draw close to the house. "Yeah," he concludes... for he knows all about these things -- "A garage or yard sale means that someone has too much stuff. A moving sale means someone's moving! An estate sale means that someone died."
"That's right, buddy."
There's not much at the sale. It had already been picked pretty clean by the time we show up, and we quickly walk through the house. There are only a few technical manuals and some work clothes. I was expecting more until passing by the operators of the sale discussing the particulars. My son, being the walking pint-size radar receiver that he is, takes in what was being said.
"Suicide. That means he killed himself."
I sigh. Oh, the loss of innocent youth in our day and age. O Tempora! O Mores!
"That's right, buddy."
He responds with that question that every child asks and every parent struggles to answer: "Why?"
After a very brief and light-hearted (considering the subject matter) explanation, it's time for bowling.
As we bowl, I'm checking CraigsList for other listings. I'm not in full-on "go hunting" mode, but hey, if there're easy pickings out there, I want in. I find a listing for another estate sale on the opposite side of town. My son is willing to go, so we put back on our street shoes after a couple of games and hurry over -- the sale closes at 4pm, and we have an hour left.
It's the twilight moments of the sale and the operators tell me that I can have whatever I can fit in a paper grocery bag for $5. I'm not interested in the clothes nor the dishes -- the other scavengers can have at that. I'm interested in what was listed: 8-track cassettes, and I find them toward the back. I spy around 30 or so and start stuffing them into the bag, doing the math in my head... 16 cents a piece, and hellooooo Elvis! Sweet! How Great Thou Art, indeed! How great thou art gonna pad my PayPal account, that is!
My enthusiasm must have shown. "Did you see the tapes over here?" One of the operators points to a large box brimming with low fidelity goodness -- but, this was an "on a whim" journey and I only had $9 in cash on me and tell the operator that sad fact. "Oh, well, just tell the woman up front I said you can have them all for $9." My heart jumps a little bit. There are 90 cassettes. We're at a dime a pop. Today must be my lucky day....
"Did you see the records over there?" I start flipping through them -- mostly classical & gospel, but all in fairly decent condition -- around 80 of them at a glance. Again, I start thinking about where there is an ATM nearby.
"Oh, we want to close up. Just take them."
"Are you sure?" They nod. I know better than to press the point. "Ok, buddy... you're gonna have to help me carry these." My son, even though he knows that there are no toys here or anything that strikes his interest, notes that I've got a huge grin on my face and happily joins in when I tell him that we can go to Taco Casa for dinner if he helps me load up the car.
At this point, everything works out to around six cents an item. By some stroke of luck, eBay also offers that for a promotional week: listing is free for as much as you want. Monday rolls around, the boy is off at daycare, and I have some spare time -- I start listing the tapes. Since I'm a relatively new seller, my cap is limited to 100 items or $5000 per month. These are 8-track cassettes and I know I won't hit my dollar limit, but item limit... um...
I end up calling eBay to find out if my limit can be increased. For what it's worth, their customer service department is prompt in calling me back. The news isn't as hot, though -- because I'm a new seller, they claim they can't increase my limit for another 45 days. Well, I guess I'll have to be choosy about which ones I put up.
I get an email. "Your selling limit has increased!" They must have had a change of heart. Outstanding! I can list all the 8-tracks I have. This past week, many have sold, more than making up for the money spent at the estate sale. I haven't even listed the records. Oh, I suppose I should probably go through them and see which ones I can put up for sale...
As I start in on the records, I start noticing that the previous owner jumbled them up. I end up playing a nice "match the record with the cover" game and doing quick searches to find out the rarity of the albums. There are three that I consider "money" records... that by rights, should sell for more than $10 a piece. The others, well, I'll figure out a way to "lot" them together at some point.
There are two anomalies in among the vinyl, however. One seems to be a test pressing from 1959 by The Lindsay Family -- a quick Google search only comes back with a modern family of musicians that have even been featured on an HBO special or something. Further research is needed to find out if this record is from a previous generation's incarnation of the tuneful clan. I can only hope, since that hopefully will bring some interest.
The other anomaly is a record without a sleeve that seems to be a gospel chorus of a church located in California. Google tells me that it's a small church with around 35 members these days. Out of curiosity, I find a number for the minister and give him a ring. He's an 80 year old man who at first doesn't understand what I'm talking about. "Is this a CD?" "No, sir. This is a vinyl record -- at a guess from the 1960's. It says that the chorus leader is so-and-so and features blah-blah-these-people."
"Oh! Ah, yes. I remember them now... most of them are dead. I bet it's probably worth something, but I don't have any money..."
"No, sir. I figured your congregation might find it interesting if any of the members on this record are still alive, or perhaps their children. I'll just ship it to you. I don't want anything for it, I figured it should be a part of your church's history."
He thanks me, and tomorrow I'll be making good with my promise. Ok, big deal -- five dollars in shipping and who knows how much the record is worth to me -- but I'll hazard a guess that it'll be worth more to the people who are related to the music. I'll take the karma points. C.R.E.A.M... but I'm not that greedy.
Go home, gospel record. You're history.
"Estate sale... that means that someone died, right, Daddy?" I confirm the grim observation as we draw close to the house. "Yeah," he concludes... for he knows all about these things -- "A garage or yard sale means that someone has too much stuff. A moving sale means someone's moving! An estate sale means that someone died."
"That's right, buddy."
There's not much at the sale. It had already been picked pretty clean by the time we show up, and we quickly walk through the house. There are only a few technical manuals and some work clothes. I was expecting more until passing by the operators of the sale discussing the particulars. My son, being the walking pint-size radar receiver that he is, takes in what was being said.
"Suicide. That means he killed himself."
I sigh. Oh, the loss of innocent youth in our day and age. O Tempora! O Mores!
"That's right, buddy."
He responds with that question that every child asks and every parent struggles to answer: "Why?"
After a very brief and light-hearted (considering the subject matter) explanation, it's time for bowling.
As we bowl, I'm checking CraigsList for other listings. I'm not in full-on "go hunting" mode, but hey, if there're easy pickings out there, I want in. I find a listing for another estate sale on the opposite side of town. My son is willing to go, so we put back on our street shoes after a couple of games and hurry over -- the sale closes at 4pm, and we have an hour left.
It's the twilight moments of the sale and the operators tell me that I can have whatever I can fit in a paper grocery bag for $5. I'm not interested in the clothes nor the dishes -- the other scavengers can have at that. I'm interested in what was listed: 8-track cassettes, and I find them toward the back. I spy around 30 or so and start stuffing them into the bag, doing the math in my head... 16 cents a piece, and hellooooo Elvis! Sweet! How Great Thou Art, indeed! How great thou art gonna pad my PayPal account, that is!
My enthusiasm must have shown. "Did you see the tapes over here?" One of the operators points to a large box brimming with low fidelity goodness -- but, this was an "on a whim" journey and I only had $9 in cash on me and tell the operator that sad fact. "Oh, well, just tell the woman up front I said you can have them all for $9." My heart jumps a little bit. There are 90 cassettes. We're at a dime a pop. Today must be my lucky day....
"Did you see the records over there?" I start flipping through them -- mostly classical & gospel, but all in fairly decent condition -- around 80 of them at a glance. Again, I start thinking about where there is an ATM nearby.
"Oh, we want to close up. Just take them."
"Are you sure?" They nod. I know better than to press the point. "Ok, buddy... you're gonna have to help me carry these." My son, even though he knows that there are no toys here or anything that strikes his interest, notes that I've got a huge grin on my face and happily joins in when I tell him that we can go to Taco Casa for dinner if he helps me load up the car.
At this point, everything works out to around six cents an item. By some stroke of luck, eBay also offers that for a promotional week: listing is free for as much as you want. Monday rolls around, the boy is off at daycare, and I have some spare time -- I start listing the tapes. Since I'm a relatively new seller, my cap is limited to 100 items or $5000 per month. These are 8-track cassettes and I know I won't hit my dollar limit, but item limit... um...
I end up calling eBay to find out if my limit can be increased. For what it's worth, their customer service department is prompt in calling me back. The news isn't as hot, though -- because I'm a new seller, they claim they can't increase my limit for another 45 days. Well, I guess I'll have to be choosy about which ones I put up.
I get an email. "Your selling limit has increased!" They must have had a change of heart. Outstanding! I can list all the 8-tracks I have. This past week, many have sold, more than making up for the money spent at the estate sale. I haven't even listed the records. Oh, I suppose I should probably go through them and see which ones I can put up for sale...
As I start in on the records, I start noticing that the previous owner jumbled them up. I end up playing a nice "match the record with the cover" game and doing quick searches to find out the rarity of the albums. There are three that I consider "money" records... that by rights, should sell for more than $10 a piece. The others, well, I'll figure out a way to "lot" them together at some point.
There are two anomalies in among the vinyl, however. One seems to be a test pressing from 1959 by The Lindsay Family -- a quick Google search only comes back with a modern family of musicians that have even been featured on an HBO special or something. Further research is needed to find out if this record is from a previous generation's incarnation of the tuneful clan. I can only hope, since that hopefully will bring some interest.
The other anomaly is a record without a sleeve that seems to be a gospel chorus of a church located in California. Google tells me that it's a small church with around 35 members these days. Out of curiosity, I find a number for the minister and give him a ring. He's an 80 year old man who at first doesn't understand what I'm talking about. "Is this a CD?" "No, sir. This is a vinyl record -- at a guess from the 1960's. It says that the chorus leader is so-and-so and features blah-blah-these-people."
"Oh! Ah, yes. I remember them now... most of them are dead. I bet it's probably worth something, but I don't have any money..."
"No, sir. I figured your congregation might find it interesting if any of the members on this record are still alive, or perhaps their children. I'll just ship it to you. I don't want anything for it, I figured it should be a part of your church's history."
He thanks me, and tomorrow I'll be making good with my promise. Ok, big deal -- five dollars in shipping and who knows how much the record is worth to me -- but I'll hazard a guess that it'll be worth more to the people who are related to the music. I'll take the karma points. C.R.E.A.M... but I'm not that greedy.
Go home, gospel record. You're history.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
An Exercise in Patience
It's been a while since I've posted anything to this blog. There are the usual reasons -- life and all of its subtle intricacies getting in the way, the summer heat, the feeling that I need to concentrate on selling my 'stock' before acquiring more... therefore, aliens.
The day job and parenting had made it a bit more difficult to hit the various garage sales during those prime hours of early Friday and Saturday mornings. The window of "relative comfort" is a thin line now; the Texan sun turns the air muggy and thick within a few hours of its daily rising. Add to this, a few listings that I thought would sell passing by their week without much activity and this made for a more lethargic scavenger.
Remember the lesson: if not now, it will eventually. I recently watched a documentary on the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl of the 30's, the mentality of those sun-wrinkled, wind-whipped farmers who year after year tried to raise crops in the growing desertification. In moments when I step unsure, I try to remember those brave folks and continue on.
"I should probably list some stuff." Oh, the agony... the effort! {Click! Relist.}
I go back to concentrating on life until I start hearing my phone chirping happily, your item has sold!
Excellent. Goodbye, Spock! Goodbye, Bull's Championship Pin Set! Goodbye, Choose Your Own Adventure #1! So long, Fleetwood Mac albums!
...hmpf, you're still here, Kasparov Chess Trainer. That's fine, I kind of didn't wanna sell you anyway!
At this point, I've nearly broken even -- I've sold enough on eBay to cover the cost of purchasing all these things that are stacked ever so neatly around my office.
Ka-ching! Chet Atkins Reel-to-reel? Really? Huh. Make that I have broken even. From here on out, it's profit. Lovely, filthy lucre. I still have a lot of "stock" left. I just need to list it.
For a laugh, I list the sets of novelizations for "Young & Restless", "As The World Turns" and "Guiding Light". Two of the sets get bids within a day. ...the sets I fished out of a box at a garage sale marked "free".
Pure gravy on these bad boys. I am happier than Buddha, and Buddha's usually pretty damn chipper.
So, the lesson is "patience, grasshopper". Patience and perseverance wins the hour.
Hopefully I can sell of enough of my stock to give me a nice little fistful of greenbacks so I can go out and start hunting again...
...when the weather gets a bit less oven-bakey, that is.
The day job and parenting had made it a bit more difficult to hit the various garage sales during those prime hours of early Friday and Saturday mornings. The window of "relative comfort" is a thin line now; the Texan sun turns the air muggy and thick within a few hours of its daily rising. Add to this, a few listings that I thought would sell passing by their week without much activity and this made for a more lethargic scavenger.
Remember the lesson: if not now, it will eventually. I recently watched a documentary on the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl of the 30's, the mentality of those sun-wrinkled, wind-whipped farmers who year after year tried to raise crops in the growing desertification. In moments when I step unsure, I try to remember those brave folks and continue on.
"I should probably list some stuff." Oh, the agony... the effort! {Click! Relist.}
I go back to concentrating on life until I start hearing my phone chirping happily, your item has sold!
Excellent. Goodbye, Spock! Goodbye, Bull's Championship Pin Set! Goodbye, Choose Your Own Adventure #1! So long, Fleetwood Mac albums!
...hmpf, you're still here, Kasparov Chess Trainer. That's fine, I kind of didn't wanna sell you anyway!
At this point, I've nearly broken even -- I've sold enough on eBay to cover the cost of purchasing all these things that are stacked ever so neatly around my office.
Ka-ching! Chet Atkins Reel-to-reel? Really? Huh. Make that I have broken even. From here on out, it's profit. Lovely, filthy lucre. I still have a lot of "stock" left. I just need to list it.
For a laugh, I list the sets of novelizations for "Young & Restless", "As The World Turns" and "Guiding Light". Two of the sets get bids within a day. ...the sets I fished out of a box at a garage sale marked "free".
Pure gravy on these bad boys. I am happier than Buddha, and Buddha's usually pretty damn chipper.
So, the lesson is "patience, grasshopper". Patience and perseverance wins the hour.
Hopefully I can sell of enough of my stock to give me a nice little fistful of greenbacks so I can go out and start hunting again...
...when the weather gets a bit less oven-bakey, that is.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
From Meth Country to Li'l Ol' Biddy Land
Today is overcast, thankfully. The sun was going to be the determining factor of whether or not I was going to brave the locals or hide in my abode, safely away from the big burny orb in the sky. Today is also Saturday -- it means lean pickings and possible heartache, so my comfort level is very important in this decision. I consider that I should take advantage of the weather for what it's worth and get ready for my journey.
I have several items on my agenda today. The Snoopy doll I picked up a week ago has sold. At first, I was a bit nervous about the sale since the buyer is located in South Korea. I invoiced with international shipping and was worried that the added cost might disrupt the sale. Thankfully, it didn't. Go home, Korean Snoopy... You're no longer wanted here in the states. So, one big thing on my list today was to pick up a shipping box.
I also had planned on listing things today since I don't have any active auctions going. I had skipped out on my lunch break yesterday to hit two estate sales. I found a 1970's copy of that old peg game Super Master Mind and some scientific books dating back to the 1950's at one. I'll be listing Stevenson's "Introduction to Nuclear Engineering" in a few... but don't worry, faithful reader, I've adjusted my settings on eBay to only sell things state-side... At the other "estate" sale -- I wish that if you're just going to have a garage sale, you should advertise it as such -- I picked up a lot of 10 ValuTales books, first editions, but not in as pristine of a condition as my own, so I won't feel as guilty listing them as a lot.
I head out on the morning's jaunt. My first few stops are relatively close to my house. Mostly clothing and nothing of any real interest. These are young families and they are just trying to get rid of their clutter. I move along, hoping to find items of real substance. As I move further down the economic line as far as households, I do find the occasional item -- at one, a biography on Boy George. Another place has a few records that are thankfully in good condition, including 2 sealed 1950's Cyril Ritchard "Alice In Wonderland" volumes, which by rights should pay for the whole day's adventure. I also pick up a decent copy of The Police's "Synchronicity" album, which is one less album that I have been wanting to replace my lost collection of yore. The copy of The Go-Go's "Beauty And The Beat", however, will be a new addition to my new wave selection.
Oh, sure, why not... "Strictly Belly Dancing" presented by Eddie "The Sheik" Kochak. The album cover alone is worth the dime.
Further winding into the lower income neighborhoods... A lot of hispanic families are out with tires and baby clothing. Several of them offer "tamales caliente" and I'm almost tempted. I do love a good home-made tamale, but it's deals that I hunger for and I won't find them here...
Or will I? I'm over in Meth Country: run down homes with trucks on blocks. One sale has a scrawny fellow offering me 2 huge bins of books for a dollar (both hardcover & paperback -- at a glance, mostly romance & spy novels). The plastic bins that the books are in are in good condition. I'm feeling magnanimous today, so I decide to sweeten the quick sale: "Toss in the bins and I'll give you two." It's a done deal. I figure that at the very least, the bins were worth it -- they are pretty solid. At another multi-family sale, the items for barter do not strike my fancy, but I do see a box of books marked "free". Well, I can't argue with the price... I fish out almost complete sets of novelizations of "The Young & The Restless", "Guiding Light" and "As The World Turns". They won't bring much, but whatever they bring, it will be pure profit.
The skies are still holding out. It's muggy, but not extremely uncomfortable yet. I decide to press my luck and meander further east. The neighborhoods I desire now should have cut lawns and all the automobiles visible should run. I venture over to an area that I hadn't been in for a few years and start looking for the signs.
Ah, Li'l Ol' Biddy Land! The sales in this area are all run by your grandma. Normally, this would be paydirt for me, but not today... Apparently, I missed all the good stuff yesterday. Well, when I say "the good stuff" I mean things that I would be interested in. "I just gave a guy yesterday my big box of a hundred 8-tracks for free."
Rats.
I get an eyeful of cheap china and knick-knacks as I snake my way around. One thing that's interesting about this town is that the neighborhoods vary by ways of economic standard within very short distances. Meth Country is about two miles north of me by now, yet I'm surrounded by million dollar homes -- these are the people who do not have yard sales. Yard Sales are for The Little People, the Povs. I decide to give up for the day and head back.
I go through the day's finds, keeping some of the hard-cover books that might be worth something on eBay and placing the others back in the bins. I decide to head over to Half-Price Books to see if I can get a free lunch. After meandering around the store while they sift through the selection, I am offered a whopping $3.50. Well, I didn't expect to get a free steak dinner, but I was hoping for more than a Value Meal.
I stop by WalMart on my way back home and pick up a shipping box for Snoopy.
And now, it's time to start listing. Come on, Nuclear Engineering!
I have several items on my agenda today. The Snoopy doll I picked up a week ago has sold. At first, I was a bit nervous about the sale since the buyer is located in South Korea. I invoiced with international shipping and was worried that the added cost might disrupt the sale. Thankfully, it didn't. Go home, Korean Snoopy... You're no longer wanted here in the states. So, one big thing on my list today was to pick up a shipping box.
I also had planned on listing things today since I don't have any active auctions going. I had skipped out on my lunch break yesterday to hit two estate sales. I found a 1970's copy of that old peg game Super Master Mind and some scientific books dating back to the 1950's at one. I'll be listing Stevenson's "Introduction to Nuclear Engineering" in a few... but don't worry, faithful reader, I've adjusted my settings on eBay to only sell things state-side... At the other "estate" sale -- I wish that if you're just going to have a garage sale, you should advertise it as such -- I picked up a lot of 10 ValuTales books, first editions, but not in as pristine of a condition as my own, so I won't feel as guilty listing them as a lot.
I head out on the morning's jaunt. My first few stops are relatively close to my house. Mostly clothing and nothing of any real interest. These are young families and they are just trying to get rid of their clutter. I move along, hoping to find items of real substance. As I move further down the economic line as far as households, I do find the occasional item -- at one, a biography on Boy George. Another place has a few records that are thankfully in good condition, including 2 sealed 1950's Cyril Ritchard "Alice In Wonderland" volumes, which by rights should pay for the whole day's adventure. I also pick up a decent copy of The Police's "Synchronicity" album, which is one less album that I have been wanting to replace my lost collection of yore. The copy of The Go-Go's "Beauty And The Beat", however, will be a new addition to my new wave selection.
Oh, sure, why not... "Strictly Belly Dancing" presented by Eddie "The Sheik" Kochak. The album cover alone is worth the dime.
Further winding into the lower income neighborhoods... A lot of hispanic families are out with tires and baby clothing. Several of them offer "tamales caliente" and I'm almost tempted. I do love a good home-made tamale, but it's deals that I hunger for and I won't find them here...
Or will I? I'm over in Meth Country: run down homes with trucks on blocks. One sale has a scrawny fellow offering me 2 huge bins of books for a dollar (both hardcover & paperback -- at a glance, mostly romance & spy novels). The plastic bins that the books are in are in good condition. I'm feeling magnanimous today, so I decide to sweeten the quick sale: "Toss in the bins and I'll give you two." It's a done deal. I figure that at the very least, the bins were worth it -- they are pretty solid. At another multi-family sale, the items for barter do not strike my fancy, but I do see a box of books marked "free". Well, I can't argue with the price... I fish out almost complete sets of novelizations of "The Young & The Restless", "Guiding Light" and "As The World Turns". They won't bring much, but whatever they bring, it will be pure profit.
The skies are still holding out. It's muggy, but not extremely uncomfortable yet. I decide to press my luck and meander further east. The neighborhoods I desire now should have cut lawns and all the automobiles visible should run. I venture over to an area that I hadn't been in for a few years and start looking for the signs.
Ah, Li'l Ol' Biddy Land! The sales in this area are all run by your grandma. Normally, this would be paydirt for me, but not today... Apparently, I missed all the good stuff yesterday. Well, when I say "the good stuff" I mean things that I would be interested in. "I just gave a guy yesterday my big box of a hundred 8-tracks for free."
Rats.
I get an eyeful of cheap china and knick-knacks as I snake my way around. One thing that's interesting about this town is that the neighborhoods vary by ways of economic standard within very short distances. Meth Country is about two miles north of me by now, yet I'm surrounded by million dollar homes -- these are the people who do not have yard sales. Yard Sales are for The Little People, the Povs. I decide to give up for the day and head back.
I go through the day's finds, keeping some of the hard-cover books that might be worth something on eBay and placing the others back in the bins. I decide to head over to Half-Price Books to see if I can get a free lunch. After meandering around the store while they sift through the selection, I am offered a whopping $3.50. Well, I didn't expect to get a free steak dinner, but I was hoping for more than a Value Meal.
I stop by WalMart on my way back home and pick up a shipping box for Snoopy.
And now, it's time to start listing. Come on, Nuclear Engineering!
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