1. Garage Sale Bonding

    By Luke Freeman on 2002-06-28

    Young married couples, yokels, kiddies who were dragged away from the cartoons by their parents, 60-year-old men who fancy themselves as bargin hunters, and cheapskates in general. These people together make the the unique group that visit Garage sales on sunny Saturday Mornings. Oh how I secretly long to be part of the select group of Garage sale Junkies, grabbing the local paper, driving around town to all the sales, and inspecting the tables and tables of junk on peoples front lawns, hoping to spot that elusive bargin worth bragging to friends about. Old board games, tables and chairs that now clash with the owners decour, tennis raquets without any string, Atari game cartriges, videos that you couldn’t give away (The Fifth Element anyone?) and merchendise for now defunct sporting teams are amoung the many treasures on offer. Stuff you can’t live without but never knew it until then, its a gold mine for those who are running short on worthless nick nacks.

    One morning, I found an ad in the gararge sale section that looked to contain reasonable product, with the added bonus of being with convenient proximety to my home and thought I might as well check it out. I got to the sale around 10 am, about 4 hours after the Garage Sale junkies have come and gone, leaving me with the regular crowd of normal people to fight over the remains. Damn It!!! I wanted to see some genuine Garage sale freaks, Oh, well, maybe next time.

    It wasn’t long before I began thinking about James Bond, as one tends to do when they are at a gararge sale. I thought I had spotted Rose Kleebs specs from From Russia With Love, but it turned out they were just novelty glasses. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen any 007 collectables at a garage sale, but thats probably because no-one would ever part with there beloved Bond merchendise. It then suddenly occured to me that James Bond, in neither his literery nor cinematic form, would ever find himself at a garage sale, nor associate with anyone who did (unless Blofelds next scheme involves a garage sale, but thats another story). With the most interesting item on sale being a thong (the footwear, not the other type of thong, you people sicken me!) I began to ponder this a little more.

    Bond is fantasy, Bond goes to exotic locations like Jamaica, Paris, the Bahamas, India. And when he is in these spots he doesn’t go to garage sales, he goes to casinos, villains lairs, girl’s bedrooms and such and such. I’m not say there’s anything wrong with that, that’s why I like Bond. Its just that its interesting to thing about the places that you would never find our favorite British spy. Is it interesting enough to have an article dedicated soley to it? Probably not, but there I was, reflecting on the places where Goldfinger or Stromberg could have hidden without worrying about bumping into 007, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

    McDonalds – First off, the number one Scottish Clown restaraunt in the world, McDonalds. It’s hard to imagine that a man like Bond, who regularly consumes caviar, the most expense foods and the finest wines (and scrambled eggs apparently) would steer his Aston Martin into the Drive-Thru at the famous golden arches. Although Batman did it once I think, so maybe it’s not completely impossible. But since the best beverage on offer is a thick shake, Bond doesn’t get to request that his drink be “shaken, not stirred”, which would probably take all the fun out of it for old Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.

    Tattoo Parlour – Okay, so Mickey D’s is an easy one, but how about something along the lines of “Big Al’s Tattoo and Piercing Palour”?. A dusty, seedy dump on the lower end of town. Can’t picture Broz wandering in, pointing to a poster of a skull and saying “One of those, on the bum”? Well how about a Roger Moore scenerio? An old Roger Moore strolls in, “a tattoo if you don’t mind”. Big Al, big by both name and nature grunts, spits, looks down to old Rog and snarls “We don’t serve limey’s here”. Two huge punk guards, one with a nose ring and the other with huge snake tattoos on both arms, pick up Roger and drag him away. Everyone’s second favorite Bond raises his eyebrows and calls out “another time perhaps” as he is escorted outside where waiting for him is the beating of a life time.

    Alcoholics Anonomouys – “Hello, My name is James, and I have a drinking problem” would be the cry, “Well duh!” would probably be the reply. Most people would walk of of the theatre if this scene showed up in the newest Bond adventure, personally I think it would make a very hansome pretitle scene. Bond telling his support group of how he’s made 50 days without a vodka martini, then suddenly Colonel Moon and his army come crashing in though the wall, with tanks, helicopters, the works. Bond draws his Walther PP9 ready to take them all on, but it turns out that Moon and his troops are only there because they made a wrong turn on the way to their Microwave Cooking class.

    And the rest – What about a Senior citizens coach tour? “And now if you look to your left” the tour guide would say, its just a shame that Bond has already seen and jumped off all the worthwhile monuments in the world. Maybe a soccer game, a kindergarden, an insurance agency? Okay, so maybe in hindsight it’s not all that difficult to think of places where you would never see James Bond. I clearly needed a seond opinion.

    I sorted the opinion of the nearest person, a man who wanted to buy a golf club and a beer coaster, but only had enough money for one. “Name one place James Bond would never go” I challenged the man.
    His answer wasn’t a bad one. “A Kevin McClory Fan Club meeting” he said.
    “Not a bad effort” I replied, but then remined him of the fact that its pretty unlikely you’ll find anyone there, apart a couple of lost tourists and a handful of mentally disturbed, pot smoking, hippies. Since the gentleman had tried to answer my question, it was only fair that I should attempt to solve his delemmia.
    He asked me “Which should I buy, the golf club or the beer coaster?”. I told him that he should buy the golf club, that way he could knock the owner unconsious with it, and then take the beer coaster too. And he did just that, smashing the club into the back of the garage sale owners head and scampering off with the club and the coaster before anyone could get a good description. I was glad to be of help.

    Until next time,