This Curb-Shopper’s Rules of the Road, part 1

1.     Pick It Up and Get Going. Irrational or not, I have a fear of getting arrested for curb shopping. Anyway, I break that rule all the time, every single outing. See Post #1 for in-depth confession.

2.     Be Prepared—always have tape measure, convertible screwdriver, Allen wrenches, and small flashlight. Actually, this thought just crossed my mind. Seems a really good idea. Maybe I should try it.

3.     Plastic Does Not Sell. But it is mighty useful. My basement has optimal organization potential, thanks to those rolling three-drawer Sterlites that people routinely unload. But when will I take the time to fill and use them instead of just leave them taking up basement space…? I do not know. 

4.     Do Not Open Opaque Bags. Anything could be lurking inside, and I do not want to end up on local news as the woman who found body parts in a contractor’s bag in Scarsdale. Cuz, you know, Scarsdale’s much more dangerous than the press lets on.

One time, I was sorely tempted by a black contractor’s bag on a good friend’s curb. She had just renovated her place, and the curb display was fine. It was far too late to call her and ask, “What’s IN THAT BAG?”  I stood at the curb, devil on one shoulder, angel on the other. The devil went home in a huff that night.

The next day, I confessed in a text that I went dumpster-diving at her place. I got an urgent reply: “Hope you did NOT OPEN THE BAGS! Workers left days of leftovers in the garage! MAGGOTS!” 

Following the rules saves this Curb Shopper from unspeakable nastiness.

5.     While Cruising, Listen to Something Old. The first night I boldly went where only sweatpant wearing guys in utility vans had gone before, music added to the excitement.

      WCBS started playing The Four Seasons’ “December, 1963” at the moment I sighted a promising pile in front of a dark house with a “SOLD” sign on the lawn. I scoffed, but I left the song on in the dark as I sweated and struggled to fit a full antique steamer trunk into the not-empty back end of God Bless America. I felt like a happy disco-era grave robber. After I got home, pried open the trunk’s rusted lock, and found it filled with the former house owner’s 1920s-50s hand-embroidered linens and beaded French purses, I felt instead that I had saved a life. “Oh, what a night,” indeed.

 

So, these days, I seek out Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation,” The Guess Who’s “American Woman,” T Rex’s “Get It On,” The Doors “Twentieth Century Fox,” Blondie's "One Way Or Another." I am Curb Shopper, breaking the rules of suburban decency, cruising dimly-lit streets, picking up other people’s “trash.”

I have to listen to music that gives me the metaphorical balls needed to push that oversized, overstuffed armchair into that already-jam-packed van, rules of physics be damned.

If you are inspired by this post and want to get in the Game, consider keeping your motivation music at moderate levels, or the residents will come to the window and stare you down. If they do, hold your head up, smile, and wave respectfully. And then, turn the music down a little.

6.     When Cruising, Listen to Something New. I tune the radio to WNYC, our local NPR station. Their late-night talk shows are genius. As a mommy who often misses cultural developments other than which hyper-sexualized pop star flashed her assets on national TV, shows like “Sound Check” bring up-to-date with what’s new and worthy. Canadian “Q,” hosted by my latest voice-crush Jian Gomeshi, opens my eyes to what’s happening with my Neighbors to the North. “Radio Lab” is so smart, so alive, so lyrically interlaced, it messes with my head in the most pleasurable ways; halfway through the hour, the road doesn’t look solid anymore. Until I catch sight of another curb find. 

Copyright 2013, Tanya Monier