Let me set the scene (keep in mind I was a theater major). The Houston area, where fur coats appear on the "ladies who lunch" when the weather dips below 50, has been hit by an unprecedented winter storm that not only brings snow and prolonged sub-freezing temperatures, but also creates statewide power outages for millions. My extremely pragmatic sister lives in a high-rise that lost power early in the storm and, thinking quickly, secures a hotel room in Houston's only five-star hotel, which just happens to be down the street from her place. Less than 24 hours later, I too lose power, but living in a house that has a fireplace, well-stocked pantry, and a gas cooktop, just hunker down. My car's parked on the driveway so I can easily access it to charge my gizmos, which also gives me the opportunity (or really, excuse) to warm up.
And it's there, while texting with Black (who, for the record, rarely texts but at that point in time it was the only form of communication that worked), that the following conversation ensues …
| Hotel lost power |
| Sorry! What are you going to do?! |
| Give it a few minutes – may be rolling blackout |
| Back on … was only off for a few minutes … maybe room has energy conservation setting since I had not moved |
| Ok, not as funny as pink utility bills but amusing nonetheless |
So, you may be wondering, why did I find this amusing and what do pink letters have to do with anything? Well, I'll start with the pink letters …
Years ago, when we were teaching a personal finance and Life 101 class at KIPP Houston High School, Black wanted the high school seniors to understand how having money's different from being smart with money. She explained how she kept receiving mail from her electricity provider that had those clear "windows" where she could see a pink letter inside. However, she ignored them because she typically paid her utility bills months in advance, so assumed they were part of a breast cancer awareness campaign.
All was good … until everything in her high-rise went, no pun intended, black. She assumed it was a power outage. Until she went out into the hallway and all the lights were on. Long story short, there had been an increase in her utility rate, so what she had paid months ago wasn't enough. Bottom line: my sister didn't pay her bill, and after sending her many "pink letter" past due notices, turned off her electricity.
So, what does this have to do with her hotel room going dark? Except for the obvious connection, actually, nothing. But it reminded me, whether she thought the hotel might be experiencing a rolling blackout or that the bills were fundraising for breast cancer, Black jumps to a "meaningful" reason for why something happens. It's typical Black. Logical and pragmatic but also looking for a bit more "meaning" to things. Which is fine, but it often makes me laugh (to myself, anyway) knowing that in reality the truth's often (actually, almost always) simpler and something us "mere mortals" easily see.
Sometimes it's best not to overthink or overanalyze …
No matter the reason for a garage sale – whether to get rid of things you’re not using anymore, an attempt to declutter, or estate sale “leftovers” – they can be about so much more than just “stuff”. And is why we’re rerunning one of Red’s favorite posts. Plus, Saturday’s National Garage Sale Day. (Yes, that’s a real thing.)
| Thanks for the accounting of your garage sale. But, given how many hours you spent preparing for it, and then the actual sale itself, did you calculate how much you“earned” on a $/hour basis? |
| No, all I know is that it seemed to take forever to go through everything in Mom’s house and decide what to keep, what to sell, what to donate. And what to trash. As far as the garage sale, I’ll give you your half the next time I see you. |
| Keep my half. You did all the work. I did not even offer to help. |
| And that was a big help. Thank you. |
Blackassets.rebelmouse.io
red headassets.rebelmouse.io | Obviously, you must be exhausted because you are making no sense. |
| Sorry, but I have a specific way of running garage sales, and the last thing I needed was another “cook in the kitchen”. |
| Not a good analogy as “cook” is a four-letter word that I do not use. |
| Cute. But seriously, I knew if I had asked you to help, you would’ve. But I can only imagine how you’d have reacted when you first saw all the stuff for sale. Especially as I treat garage sales as a way to get rid of items that I know have very little value. I’m not trying to maximize the money I make; I’m just trying to make the stuff “go away”. In fact, I don’t even put prices on them. |
| That all makes sense. Except for not having everything pre-priced. That would drive me crazy. How do you know what to charge people? |
| It’s an experience thing and another reason why I didn’t ask you to help. I have a sense of prices, but not something I could quantify in advance. When someone arrives, I tell them that everything’s cheap and give them an example. They usually look at me like, “Wow, she means it.” And then I tell them to collect what they wantand that I promise to give them a good price. And I do. |
| Is that why you and Mom never had joint garage sales? I cannot imagine she would let you determine prices on the spot. |
| Actually, she’s the one who “taught” me not to price things. That if someone picks up something or you see them looking at it, they’re interested. And that’s all you need to know. Where we differed was in how much to charge. To her, it was fun, but also a way to make money. To me, a garage sale isn’t my retirement account. It’s my way to get rid of stuff, especially big, bulky stuff. |
| In other words, people are paying you to haul off your trash. Or, save you trips taking stuff to your local thrift stores. |
| Exactly. Although I still take a lot of items to thrift stores that would probably sell for a decent price at a garage sale because I believe in what they’re doing, and I know that my donations make a difference. But I forgot how fun a garage sale can be, meeting people and laughing, just making connections, and knowing that someone will now enjoy and/or use your things. Or, in this case, Mom’s things. |
| Is there a particular age group that came to your garage sale? |
| It was truly a mix of people. Not counting the kids tagging along with their parents, which reminded me of when the girls would set up a lemonade stand to benefit Make-A-Wish at my garage sales years ago, they ranged from 20-somethings to senior citizens. But I’m almost afraid to ask why you asked. |
| I will not get into studies and statistics, but younger people are really into the environment and reusing older things, especially clothing (which is one of the three “new” R’s – reduce– reuse – recycle). So, garage sales, along with thrift stores, are becoming more popular than ever. |
| I love it! And the idea of so many of Mom’s things, now that she’s passed, will get to live on and be enjoyed by others. |
| At the risk of sounding like a MasterCard commercial, there are some things that money cannot buy. Like sentimental value and fond memories. |
| I know. Which is why the process of sorting everything was so time-consuming. Interestingly, when that came up in conversation during the garage sale, so many people could relate and then shared their own stories. It was as if they wanted me to know that Mom’s things were getting a good home. |
| Well, if you add that to the cash you made, it sounds like a very successful garage sale. Hopefully, the next sale, being an estate sale with larger and higher-priced items, will be as successful. And, although I tried to get you to use a professional“estate sale” company that would do everything for you, I am beginning to understand why you decided to do it yourself. |
| The hardest part was culling and organizing, and there was no way I’d let strangers go through all of Mom’s things. And the internet makes “advertising” the sale and posting items online very easy. All-in-all, there’s no reason we can’t do it ourselves. |
| We?! |
| Yes, because your ability to combine photos into a single image and correct my grammar is important. But your spreadsheets will be critical. |
| Now, that I can do. |
Regardless of why summers are getting hotter and hotter … they are. Which is miserable for everyone. But, don’t sweat it, we’re rerunning this post as a reminder of what you can do to make the heat just a little more bearable – for you and others. Plus, Red loves the movie clip …
| I know everyone’s talking about the record-setting temperatures because everyone’s experiencing them, but I’m so tired of it being so damn hot out. Or, should I say “too darn hot,” in honor of one of my favorite all-time musicals, “Kiss Me, Kate”? |
| You said it was worse when you lived in Hong Kong and Shanghai because there was little difference between day and evening temperatures and humidity. At least here, it cools off a little once the sun goes down. |
| But not enough. I know I’m getting older, so that doesn’t help, but the heat seems more oppressive, and I’m not only lethargic but cranky. |
| I think the correct word is … crankier. But, if it makes you feel any better, research provides a legitimate reason for being tired and cranky – the more our bodies work to cope with the physical heat, the less we can deal with the associated emotions. |
| Of course, you researched it. |
| And, even though I typically do not “do” nice, the heat makes me realize the need to be patient with people. |
| That’s funny. While everyone else is getting testy, you get nice. But since I know everyone’s feeling the heat, I try to think of others. Even a small gesture can make a big difference. For example, when I runerrands (which, ideally, would be early morning but, realistically, tend to belate afternoon), I make a point to let shoppers walking in the parking lotalways have the right of way since I’m protected from the sun in the comfort ofmy air-conditioned car while they’re outside in the blistering sun. |
| Did you know that heat waves are the #1 weather-related killer in the U.S., killing more people than floods, hurricanes, or tornadoes? That is why they started naming heat waves – so they would get the attention they deserve. And some cities (Miami, Phoenix, and LA) have even appointed heat officers. |
| I didn’t know about that, but I do know that when the girls were small, they needed special attention. Same with the elderly. And don’t forget animals, too! I limit Moo’s outside time and make sure she stays hydrated. I even set the timer for 10 minutes when I let her out. |
| I admit I am very fortunate as I can hide from the heat in my air-conditioned high-rise. But, to help the demands on Houston’s power grid, I have raised the temperature setting on my A/C even though I can feel the effect on my productivity. I have also closed blinds and drapes, unplugged non-essential appliances, and am taking cooler, shorter showers. |
| I have done the same! Although I’ll admit I was prompted by an email from my electricity provider. It also had great tips for the best time to run appliances, like trying to avoid the hours when most people get home from work as they turn on or lower A/C’s, run ovens and washing machines, etc. |
| There is much we can and should do, but I do not want to start talking about global warming or climate change, or who is to blame, even though it is a “hot topic” (sorry, could not resist). |
| Well, I hear this month’s being declared the hottest month ever, and hopefully, we’ll weather, pun intended, this summer’s heat. But I’m afraid things are only going to get worse over the coming years. |
| Agree, but for now, all I have to say is … if you must go out in the heat, PLEASE avoid these eight mistakes. |
Maybe Skin Cancer Advice, But Don’t Expect A Compliment From A Sarcastic Sister
I'll never forget the day. It was an "almost" ordinary day out on the golf course with my mom and dad during the heat of a Long Island summer. Now, if "Long Island" conjures up images of stately manors on the North Shore (think "Great Gatsby") or beachfront mansions in the Hamptons (think Robin Leach and his popular show "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous"), you can put those out of your head. I'm not talking about some fancy country club golf course, just a regular public course.
I loved the game ever since I learned to play as a teenager, and although I never got to play while at college (Wake Forest, which was renowned for its golf program, with its most famous alumni being Arnold Palmer), I'd try to get out as often as possible when I was home. I wasn't a phenomenal player but had a decent game and natural talent. And most of the time, I hit it pretty straight, so one of the things I enjoyed was walking down the middle of the fairway, pulling my clubs along (no fancy golf carts on this course), appreciating the day and the sport.
On one (very rare) occasion, my sister came back to New York to visit, as she moved out of state as soon as she graduated from business school. She also played golf, but unlike me, who relied on natural ability and played for fun, she worked extremely hard at her game, was overly competitive, and played "business golf". The result was that she was a far better player than me, although I was holding my own on that day.
As Black often says, the scorecard contains only numbers, no editorial. And it would ultimately show that she'd beat me, but as we were each walking up one of the last holes toward our respective balls, in the heat of a late summer afternoon, with the sun at our backs, I was secretly hoping that she'd be proud of me. So, after I hit my fairway shot onto the green, I heard her call out to me, and my hopes were high,
I wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or be angry. Or to just roll my eyes as it really was something only my sister would say. And to this day, I'm not even sure if she had even noticed how close I came to beating her and how well I played – "upping" my game driven by her much better game.
But I also know that I can never look down at my very pale legs without laughing just a little at how a lifetime ago (or so it seems), she was so right. Recently, when she treated me to my first pair of Birkenstocks, I stood in the store trying them on, and before she had a chance to say it I told her … Yes, I do look like I have on white hose.
P. S. – I feel it only fair (pun intended) to have a P.S. for a P.S.A. – Long ago, the harm of the summer sun wasn't as well known, but in the years since, we've learned how important sunblock is. Year-round. So, whether you're a redhead who never tans (I used to cycle between being extremely pale and burning red and back again) or someone who does tan, take care of your skin!