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.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
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.
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