I’m blessed with a steady 40 hours per week job that allows me to sell items on the side, but not depend on its income to survive.
On the other hand, I’m cursed with working 40 hours a week because there is so much that I want/need to do with my online business that just can’t be accomplished on weekends and a couple of hours per night.
On rare occasions, though, I will “waste” valuable vacation time to pursue an event related to my online business.
Case in point, I read about a huge estate sale about 60 miles from my house. It was advertised as the estate of a former “Big Game” hunter. It was supposed to have, among other things, boxes and boxes of books, and the ad on the web page even showed a few pictures of the books. I really couldn’t tell much about them, but I was intrigued by the whole “Big Game” premise, with visions of exotic books dancing in my head. Unfortunately, it started on Friday. After much internal debate, I took a vacation day, and off I went.
It pains me to say that the whole exotic book dream was a bust; the books were old and musty, and stored in a large workshop/garage. Disappointed, but hating to waste the trip, I walked to the actual house, grumbling to myself, hoping to find something that I could sell … something that would make the trip at least not a total waste of time, gas, and vacation hours. Upon walking in the front door, though, I was speechless.
It truly was the home of a “Big Game” hunter, and decorated to fit the theme, with guns, photos, and real leather furniture, including tables. However, what grabbed my attention was the stuffed Kodiak black bear, in full roar, which greeted me as I walked into the living room.
I forgot all about books.
Following the bear’s stare, I walked further into the gigantic living room, and was at once surrounded by creatures of all shapes and sizes, from bobcats to birds, sitting on the floor, and hanging from tree limbs. Each had a plaque with information about the creature, and when/where it was hunted. I examined each one, feeling both amazed at the shear majesty of the animals, and feeling a little diminished, knowing that each had been a living creature at one time, and each had been killed by the same man.
And everything was for sale, except the bear. State law prohibited it. Of course, they said that if I wanted the bear, they would be more than happy to take it to the next state over and sell it to me. I obviously declined.
I left the sale after paying respect to the animals one last time, but thought about them all the way home, wrestling with the mixed emotions that I had felt earlier. In the end, I just decided to be happy, sad, and a little bit humbled, and to call the trip a success.
All without buying a single book.