I knew it was a big favor, but I agreed to it anyway. My cousin Catherine has a lot of belongings stored in a shed behind my house, and even more stuff stacked at her own place. She asked if it would be all right to have a yard sale at my abode. She had done one other sale at my pad last fall, and I figured it would be a good way to clear out junk--I mean, old treasures. I agreed to the sale as a favor, and that's pretty much what I've been doing for the last two days.

To be completely accurate, it wasn't a garage sale. The garage at my place was converted into an enclosed room long ago and sits behind a fence. It wasn't a yard sale because my yard has cactus, agave and other pokey things in it. It wasn't an estate sale because everyone selling stuff was still alive. We put everything on the driveway, so it was really a driveway sale.

My cousin had the most stuff by far. Clothes, fabrics, dishes, nick knacks, books, a TV, basic little furniture, and a bird cage. The bird cage was the marquee item starting out at $40. My girlfriend had old purses and shoes. My brother had skis, DVDs & books. I had camping gear, picture frames, books and games.

We arranged everything in a walk-around loop style, and my cousin put out signs around the neighborhood. Someone said they wanted the birdcage for $30 early on, but she refused. She had seconds thoughts after the guy was gone, and she lowered the price to $30. We all sat in the psuedo-shade under a few grape vines in the front walkway. A pair of roadrunners who live in my wisteria tree would pop out every now and again to look at the toys. They would also show off the kills they made in the neighborhood of bugs, nice and even a lizard. Roadrunners are pretty cool. My cousin and I stayed out the longest the first day (and the second), and I'm pretty red right now.

Personally, I don't like garage sales. I don't go to them. I don't have them. I don't enjoy the people at them. I'm a minimalist, and aside from books, movies, music & clothes, I have little to offer. A nice bike, a nice bed, an old stereo. One estate sale weekend, and you could resell all of my possessions, and I doubt you would make a thousand dollars. Every now and again, I get rid of things, but I don't have a sale. I just get rid of them. The more stuff you own, the more your stuff owns you. I truly believe that.

Back to our driveway sale. Most things were not priced, you just had to ask, and almost everything was three dollars or less. It baffled me that no matter how cheap the price was, people would still put it back. "How much for this lotion?" "Ten cents" Silence as if it was too much. What can you get for a dime these days?

There were the people that wanted you to give them your stuff for free. We never brought ourselves to that. If you can't play the lowest of the low free enterprise games, then just don't stop by. There were also the people who liked to show you they had more money than they were spending at your place. They would flash you a twenty before giving you four dollars. This didn't bother me. If we don't have what you want, don't buy anything.

On Saturday, I got up at 6:10 a.m. and hauled out all the booty again that was in my living room overnight. My brother stopped by for a little while, and my girlfriend popped out for a moment before going to work. This day truly belonged to my cousin and I as we watched the strange masses come and go. More stuff disappeared. The TV, big stuffed puppy dog, video tapes, dishes. At least something from every category was getting purchased. I used sunscreen, which helped a little. Many asked about the birdcage but no takers at $30.

It was nice to see the people who would wipe out an entire section. Someone came by and bought almost all my brother's DVDs at three bucks a pop. Someone bought all my old Terry Brooks books, thinking they were Irish Tales. I hinted that the Shannaras were more like the Skywalkers than the O'Shannessys. It didn't click with him, but he took the books away anyway.

People bought things I never thought they would. An old Cheers game, an old scout backpack, picture frames, Underworld by Don DeLillo. Some people thought it was a gold mine of treasures, mostly crafts people and women around the same size as my cousin for clothes. Others did one loop around and left. Through it all, my cousin and I sat in the 80-degree heat.

Around two p.m. we decided to call it. The wind was picking up, and most of the good items were gone. Traffic had slowed down. That's when I realized my cousin wasn't going to take most of the stuff with her. It was going back in my shed. While she packed things up, I hauled items back to the shed one box at a time. It took about an hour, and I was hot, sweaty, tired & cranky. A guy zoomed up in a big truck and spoke broken English asking about the birdcage. It was $30. He said $10, then $12, then he got up to twenty. I said I would sell it to him for twenty, but my cousin refused. She just couldn't part with it for less than thirty, so she didn't. It was the biggest disappointment for me.

I thought, if we can just get rid of that birdcage, everything of any serious value would be sold and gone. I don't miss one thing that I sold. Just pay something and take it away.

So after two eight-hour days, I was about $35 bucks richer (I had the smallest total with no big items for sale), had a red face and neck, and was exhausted from hauling junk to and fro. This was a big favor I did, but it was for my cousin. What are cousins for, eh? My shed is slightly less packed, and my cousin has promised to take the stuff to thrift stores and goodwill soon. If there is one thing I learned from the last two days, it's that I won't be doing another garage sale or yard sale or driveway sale for a very long time.

Anybody want a really nice birdcage for $30? $25? Ah, forget it.

Chris Jungle believes less is more.