EAST BAY - It's after midnight on a Friday evening, and while most of his peers are sound asleep at the end of a hard work week, or even lining up for last call at the local tavern, John Bellagamba is pouring over pages of data as he sits in front of his home computer. The Middletown resident is bleary-eyed but diligent, searching the Net, taking notes, strategizing and synchronizing coordinates from desktop to Palm Pilot. He is tired and needs to be up in a few hours, but he knows that it's this extra effort that will give him the leg up on his competition.
Downloads complete, John saves his agenda items with obscure codenames: "GR1," "GR2" and "GR3." He rises from his chair, lets slip a subtle, almost cocky smile, and heads off to bed. He needs to be well-rested for the following day; after all, spending a Saturday cruising the yard sale circuit isn't as easy as you might think. You've got to be savvy and sharp, able to differentiate a bargain from a bust. You must have a plan.
Along for the yard sale ride
Five hours later I wake up, anxious to pick up John. It is 5:45 a.m., 15 minutes before my alarm is set to go off. It is a gray morning as I drive to Aquidneck Island, where I will be picking up John and his fiancé of, roughly, 36 hours. That they agreed to meet with me so soon on the heels of their engagement, and prior to a breakfast at which they will share their exciting news with Amanda's aunts and uncles, is a testament to their dedication.
"That wooden rocker you're sitting in," John tells me moments after I arrive, "it only cost me $10." In addition to the antique rocker, he has brought home power tools and hand tools, computer scanners and printers, electronics equipment, software, cables and a multitude of equipment for his wedding and corporate party entertainment business, Rhythm Productions, Inc.
John and Amanda are morning-weary, but still they wear excited smiles. I would like to believe that it is because they are a newly engaged couple in the midst of romantic bliss, but deep down, I know better. They are smiling because they are excited to show me the underbelly of a seedy world I thought was reserved only for roving septuagenarian gangs and the snow-globe-obsessed. They are smiling because they are going to spend another Saturday morning, like they do every other Saturday morning, "Yard Saling."
John hops into the driver's seat of their SUV, Amanda sits in back and I slide into the passenger seat, and then we start our adventure. "We usually take the Golf," Amanda tells me, referring to their much smaller, less cargo-room Volkswagen. "It's much better for parking," she says, the two of them sharing a laugh that is a mixture of embarrassment for admitting to me that they know that, and a sense of pride for their wisdom.
Once we're on the road, John takes out his Palm Pilot, the one he was downloading critical data into just a handful of hours earlier, after a late night working a wedding at Castle Hill. He taps on the screen, selects "GR1," and a full-color street Mapquest map appears, sporting a red star indicating the location of our first stop: "Garage Sale number 1."
I ask them how they prioritize if the ad doesn't list specific items. "It's all about location," John explains. "Lots of times the houses in the nicer neighborhoods offer antiques, so if one's listed, we'll start there. Then, it's usually just about what's closest to home."
Saving a buck ... or 78!
Our first stop is an estate on Beacon Hill Road. The ad describes it as a "40-year collection of 'things.'" The sale starts at 8 a.m. We arrive at 8:02, and there are already five cars parked out front. These are the "Early Birds," they tell me, and it's not uncommon for these bargain birds of prey to be found perched at the end of your driveway, sipping their coffee up to an hour before a sale even begins.
"They'll knock on your door or just start looking around," Amanda tells me. "Some people actually have to put up a rope to stop them." An ad I saw the previous evening suddenly makes sense to me: "Early Birds Pay Double!" it read.
With gray skies above, this yard sale is being held inside the large, attached garage. Three rows of neatly arranged tables, all covered with decades of collected family items, and several larger items, are arranged along the outside walls. Boxes of books, tools, aluminum and wooden tennis rackets, a Black & Decker band saw, two slightly worn antique chests, a microwave oven, wires, cables and computer parts are just a sampling of the hundreds of items from which to choose.
After 10 or 15, the crowd of six has grown to 12, and we are ready to leave — but not empty handed. Just two days earlier, John had purchased two new microphone stands for $40 each. He found two here, in excellent condition, for just a dollar apiece. He tells me he will power wash and paint them, and return the others for a refund. He has saved $78 in 15 minutes.
Our next stop is the Congregational Church on Pelham Street. It too is held indoors. At a desk at the front of the large, pink-walled room, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a change belt and a smile, sits Mr. Wells. "We do this once a year," he tells me. "Folks can have a table for free and donate what they make to the church, or they rent a table for $25 and keep what they make from the items they sell. We've done this for a few years now, so people know about us and we get a steady stream of shoppers."
There are at least a half-dozen sellers and twice as many tables, including one with baked items far too tempting for this time of the morning. Because there are multiple collections here, the items vary widely. No yard sale would be complete without dozens of books, but here we also find crates of albums, racks of new, used and vintage clothing, electronics equipment and accessories, camping equipment, folding chairs, lamps and hard-to-identify knick knacks. John immediately hones in on a box full of electronics cables, within it a USB cable for his digital camera. Price if he bought it at Circuit City or Staples: $24.99. He holds it up for me to see, smiles, and says, "Ten cents."
The next time I see him he is setting up an Ozark Trail folding camp table with two cup-holders. I recently saw similar tables at Target, brand new, for $29. This one certainly looked new to me in its shoulder-strap carrying case. Price: $5. "I didn't even bargain with her," he tells me later. "If you've got a good deal, I'm not going to argue. Besides, the money is going to the church."
Amanda leaves this sale with "Snow Falling on Cedars" and "Memoirs of a Geisha," jacket prices of $12 and $14 respectively, yet both had for a dollar. She also takes home two Vera table cloths, and a picture of Marilyn Monroe to adorn the walls of her Marlborough Street consignment shop in Newport, Closet Revival. I make my first conservative purchase of the day: a brand-new copy of James Taylor's "Sweet Baby James" CD, purchase price: 50 cents. I can probably get it for half that, I think, but John's right, it's for the church.
Getting into the swing of the sale
Our third stop, or "GR3" as those of us in the biz call it, is on Hope Street. This is a three-family apartment house and two of the renters are piggybacking on the third's Moving Sale, while a separate Moving Sale is taking place just next door. "I don't know, this might be a drive-by," John says cautiously as we approach. But at the end of the driveway sit three mountain bikes, a green Trek already in the hands of a potential buyer. We end up parking half on the sidewalk, half on the street. Yes, the Golf would have been easier to park, I find myself thinking.
The items here reflect the age of the sellers: skis and snowboards, bikes, sports bottles, wine glasses, an unfinished bookcase, a bureau, TV, dining table and chairs are among the bargains to be had. The green Trek mountain bike that Amanda saw as we pull in has been left lying on the ground. She is excited. "How much are you asking for this?" she asks the woman standing behind the nearest table. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's actually not ours. Some guy just rode up on it and he's looking around next door." "Oh," Amanda says, disappointed. "Well, how much would you be willing to let it go for?" I can't help but ask.
Unwilling to give us a good price on the bike, we take our business next door. It is a Moving Sale, and these can be gold mines. People who are moving are often willing to part with a lot of perfectly fine items at a bargain-basement price just to avoid having to lug it to one more place. Here, among items such as a perfectly good charcoal grill, artwork, statuettes, furniture, a nearly new Everlast boxing speed bag with ceiling rack and gloves, stereo equipment, TVs, cameras, candles, backpacks and boxes of fleece pullovers, I find what may be my treasure.
Floating upright in an 8-inch decorative jar attached to a base made of cork is a 7-inch baby shark. Intrigued, I pick up the jar, inspect it, and am both pleasantly and disturbingly surprised to find that it is real. I certainly won't be allowed to bring this home, I realize, but I also know I can't leave without it. My brother is a shark fanatic. He has studied them, fished for them, tagged them for research and, sometimes, even eaten them. His office is adorned with Great White shark photos, memorabilia and the jaws of a 19-footer caught many years ago in a fisherman's net. He'll make room for this.
"Oh wonderful, you're buying the shark!" beams its soon-to-be former owner. I try not to act overly excited for fear of her realizing her folly and taking it off the market, but I have to know the story. Had someone in the family been a researcher? A marine biologist, perhaps? Maybe it was bycatch on an offshore fishing boat, or possibly it was handed down from generations, accompanied by an exciting tale of local "Jaws" lore.
"I got that in one of the shops down on Thames Street," she replies, much to my dismay. "They had others, too. A turtle, I think, and an octopus."
Certainly, I am disappointed, but for $2, the lure of a tourist-trap baby shark in a breakable glass of what might or might not be formaldehyde is still too tempting to pass up. Besides, my brother never needs to know.
Back in the car, John tries in vain to upstage me with his purchase of a Belkan Foldout Keyboard for his Palm Pilot, the same as a computer keyboard, only about 10 inches wide — and it folds to half that size. Store price: $59.99. Yard sale price: $5. And, he got them to throw in the carrying case, a brand-new, solid brass, $4 Ace Hardware padlock, and a planer for his garage workshop, all at no additional cost. Don't be a killjoy, I tell myself. We all know who really won this round.
They drive me to my car so they can get to the engagement announcement breakfast for which they are already late. The adrenaline is high, and if I had any doubts about why they were excited when I arrived earlier that morning, there is no doubt now. I am quite certain if I offer to go to the breakfast and deliver the news for them so they can continue shopping, they won't hesitate. I want to offer it up as a joke, but am afraid of their response, and decide it is best to keep it to myself.
How to be a savvy yard-saler
* Take some time to do a little research.
* Map out the sales you want to hit, making sure you arrange to visit the ones offering the items and locations that most interest you first.
* Conventional wisdom says to take a car you can load an elephant into, just in case, but if it is a good sale, parking will be a problem and you can always come back for larger purchases.
* Arrive early, but don't be an Early Bird unless the ad says you are welcome. And if you don't heed that advice, be ready to pay double.
* Bargain when necessary — some sellers expect and enjoy it — but also realize when you've stumbled on a good find.
Great deals?
In John and Amanda's case, if they paid store price for the items they purchased, their bill would have run in excess of $220. Instead, they paid a total of, get this, $15.10. Not bad for one morning of hard fun. If you follow the simple tips outlined in the story, and get out there this Labor Day Weekend, incidentally, the be-all, end-all weekend of yard sales, you too can fare as well. And if you're really lucky, maybe you'll even come home with a very rare Shark-in-a-Jar. Or a turtle. Or even an octopus. Here's some of the items they bought for a steal:
* Two mic stands: $80 new, $2 at yard sale
* Camping table: $29 new, $5 at yard sale
* Belkan folding Palm Pilot keyboard: $59.99 new, $5 at yard sale
* USB cable: $24.99 new, 10 cents at yard sale
* "Snow Falling on Cedars" and "Memoirs of a Geisha:" jacket prices of $12 and $14 respectively, $1 each at yard sale
By Peter Dodd