There are better than fifty-fifty odds, or “fiddy-fiddy” for my many hip-hop enthusiast readers, that you live near a thrift store. At the very least, you know of someone in your town that has a perpetual garage/yard sale, a sort of thrift store without the permits, taxes, fees, and regulations IMPOSED BY THE MAN! Admittedly, not everyone is a fan of the thrift store experience. I like it, but in smaller chunks than some. I’ll meander through the shirt aisle, pretending that if I stop too long, my feet will burst into flames. I really don’t need more shirts. I skip the pants/shorts section, because most guys will will wear them until they’ve returned to dust, at least partially, which is amazing considering they haven’t properly fit since the Bush administration. Satisfied I can’t enhance my sartorial excellence, I leave the clothing area and stroll into what can only be called the miscellaneous section, i.e. everything else. Often, thrift stores will be somewhat organized, separating furniture, books, games and toys, housewares, and the stuff that was donated because whoever dropped it off missed garbage day. At least that’s my theory. I think a lot can be learned about culture and civilization, or lack thereof, in this part of a thrift store. Here’s where it gets interesting for me.
On my most recent outing, I saw a partial set of World Book Encyclopedias. Yes, I said partial. But before I share my thoughts about that, I guess I need to explain to the youngins’ what an encyclopedia is. Simply, it is a multi-volume book version of Wikipedia. Encyclopedias were used by every student everywhere as the sole source of every report they ever wrote ever, in spite of what the bibliography said. These beauties look to have been published in the 70’s, or maybe early 80’s. This particular set was missing volumes A-G. I couldn’t decide what baffled me more. Why was only H-Z donated? Did the donee already know everything in them, or deem all information contained in the latter three fifths of the alphabet insignificant? Did they keep A-G, or toss them in the landfill?
“Hey, Petunia, could you drop these encyclopedias at the thrift store on your way by?”
“Just H-Z?”
“That’s right. I’m holding on to A-G just in case.”
“Ummm okie dokie.”
For thrill seekers, buy a 1,000 piece puzzle sealed with cellophane tape at a thrift store. Because there’s always that chance…
Every thrift store I’ve been in has that bin, or those bins, of random wires, cords, and chargers. You want to legitimately earn a Nobel prize for science? Properly match one with a device on this or any other planet. And let me make mention of the random dishes, appliances, tools, Christmas decorations, and sports equipment. To that point, I did see a pretty sweet set of Chi Chi Rodriguez endorsed golf clubs once. And not that you were wondering, but this is where old VHS tapes go to die with dignity.
Although I haven’t checked any forensic data, I’m assuming that each and every item in each and every thrift store was originally bought for a reason, to suit a purpose that may or may not have been fulfilled.
Are you fulfilling your purpose, or do you feel as though you’ve been relegated to a thrift store shelf, metaphorically speaking?
(Click “Stand on Firmer Ground” for a deeper look into Thrift Store Theology)