I mentioned my
frugal Polish grandparents before. Last night on the way home from class I stopped in Tesco at the 11th hour just before they shut; it's the best time to get the markdown bargains. While wandering around the store a long forgotten memory outed itself, so I thought I'd share it with you.
As the youngest, I only remember my grandparents as retired. They came of retirement age when Social Security solvency issues weren't on the horizon and companies still provided pensions. Still, they planned carefully and grew vegetables all summer and shopped at the supermarket on senior citizen day to maximize their purchasing power.
In addition, there was a large regular flea market located nearby which was open on Mondays. It was a super place, open year round, mainly outdoors with a small indoor building for the antiques dealers and some food stalls. You could buy anything at this flea market which was casually known around town as 'The Sale'. You could get a table as a regular trader and sell new or used items, or you could get a special table for a week or two if you had a big house clean-out. In addition, there were regular weekly auctions.
Pretty much everything was sold as The Sale. Furniture, books (my first Nancy Drew books came from there), vegetables and flowers from the local Amish communities, clothing, sports items, old postcards, whatever. It was a fun mix of anything and everything.
On public holidays we had to get up and out of the house at the crack of dawn to be there before 7 AM as the parking lot would fill up with all the 'non-regulars'. Winter was an interesting time as well, as there were few buyers we had to go for the bargains, all bundled up at the crack of dawn. We would walk around for an hour or so, and then I would have french fries around 8 AM, my reward for the foolishness of the activities.
During the rest of the year, The Sale was frequented by people who didn't work--people on disability or mothers with small children, or the core community: senior citizens, particularly males, my grandfather included. Usually they'd show up and have a wander around the outside tables and then meet up for a coffee and talk. Many of them showed up with a list of things for buy for the ladies, particularly the vegetable bargains like crates of tomatos or peaches which could be had for a song. I think it was more for the camaraderie than anything else, that they got out of the house with a mission and a chance to meet and mingle without the women-folk.
Many of them would attend the auctions which were an interesting affair. There were a few actions running simultaneously, usually each area had a theme. One was furniture, another was glassware, another was books, another was random things, and on and on. During the busiest periods there would be quite a few, during off periods, perhaps they'd be down to one or two. The auctions started at 07.00 sharp, although things would be existing on the tables in advance with lot numbers, that you could examine the goods before they were up for buying. These were really casually affairs which took place next to the building, under the vast awning but still outdoors.
Then, you could flit between them based on the lot number, or you could try your luck at the random one. As the day went on they heated up, but around lunchtime sellers would start to pack up and go home and people would too. That was when the best bargains would come up however, because they had orders to move all of the goods. So if something didn't move it would get thrown into a box. Then, boxes would start to get combined (usually by like areas) and would start at 50 cents and go up from there. Sometimes you had no idea of what was in the box exactly, except that it was a box of books, for example.
I still remember a very good school friend, his German born mother would go to the auctions. One day she bid on a box of 'carrying things'--a suitcase, a few backpacks, some purses, etc. She ended up paying 1.50 for the lot. Later, she found over 2 USD in the various pockets of the items, so she made a profit on her purchase. This was what The Sale was all about.
Now that you have the background setting, here comes the real story:
My cousin and I were at our grandparents house, with Grandmom. Grandad had gone early to The Sale. He came home with a gleam in his eyes.
Grandad: You'll never guess what I got today!?!Grandmom: It had better be seeds like I asked you to get.Grandad: Yes, yes, I got those, but guess what I got at the auction? (Noticeably pleased with himself.)
(Grandmom already steeling herself for the worst. While she was frugal, she did not put up with clutter in 'her' house. He could store as much as he wanted in his basement lair, however.)
Grandmom: Yes?Grandad: (whipping out a pair of burgandy colored trousers from behind his back)
Look!(They were boys knee-length trousers
like here, called knickerbockers)
Grandmom: Stanley! What is heaven's name is the point of this?Grandad: Aren't they great!?!Grandmom: Stanley!!! Our parents left Poland for a reason. What are you possibly going to do with those as they certainly won't fit You, and I doubt your grandson would want to be seen wearing those!(My cousin looks up now from where we were playing)
My cousin: Boys don't wear pink!Grandad: They're burgandy. Or maroon. AND THEY WERE FREE! (Grandad beside himself with glee.)
And I got over 40 pairs. Can you believe they were throwing them out, that no one would buy them at the auctions?Grandmom: Yes, actually, I can imagine that no one would want to buy a World War 1 era pair of pants. And what are you going to do with those, exactly?Grandad: Well....I was thinking....Father Cranky-pants was mentioning that we need to give to the Catholic Charities clothing drive for East Europe. (This was before the fall of Communism in Poland in 89.)
Sidenote: We had three Catholic priests at the time in our church: Father Cranky-pants predicted doomsday destruction for everyone. 'The new priest' was a nice guy who I think was brought in to stem the tide of departing Catholics due to Cranky-pants. And Father Brown was the retired priest who still lived with the others. They would bring him out when the others would go on vacation. He would forget where he was in the service so we would either sit through a repeat of sections of the mass, or an alter boy would direct him forward and we'd then miss parts.
Grandmom: Stan-ley!! The children don't need to be picking up that name from you!My cousin: That's ok Grandmom, we already know this name.Grandmom: (under her breath)
Heaven help me.Grandad: (knowing he had her hooked, now just to reel her in.)
Since it's for the church, I throught that would be ok. Besides, they had just set them by the garbage bin. They would have gone to the dump. This is good material.Grandmom: (examining it closely now, she was a seamstress in her career.)
yes, this is quality cloth, even if the color is objectionable for a boy.Grandad: And you know Poland, good quality clothing would be nice to have. If the style is a little off, they can tailor it or make it into something else.Grandmom: grrrrr. Ok, but they do not come into this house, these moth-bitten clothes. They stay in the trunk of the car. And you need to sneak them into the donation box, I do not want to be associated with these shenanigans.What I learned from such experiences with my grandparents, was to be generous when you found a bargain, especially when it required little effort from you to make a bigger positive impact to someone else. And to go after bargains with an intent, when you knew they would benefit someone else. And the other main point which always came up with this generation--something usable should never be send to the garbage! Ultimately, I think this was what won over my grandmother...