Wednesday, June 4, 2008

How do you Craigslist?

Do you price it high and bargain? Are you fair, but firm? Or do you just price it to make a few bucks and get rid of it? For me, I try to stick with the fair, but firm option, but sometimes when I just want to see something get the heck outta my basement, I am willing to deal, down and dirty-like.

So far, this month I have listed a bunch of misfits from my basement and sold some furniture items and possibly an old Coke Machine that dates back to the 1960's. My husband has been toting this machine from one house to another with him since college. Granted, it's a pretty cool thing - it still works and actually holds the real glass bottles, in the portion-correct sizes of days gone by. We've never actually used it - not even once. The guy who wants to buy it is coming tonight, but I feel a little guilty selling it. Obviously, my husband liked the darn thing enough to lug it around for the last 18 years, but where do you draw the line between trash and treasure?

Someone who will restore it and use it, or maybe even resell it, would make more sense to me - I am not a keeper of things, but is parting with the memories and college shenanigans (said Coke machine used to hold contraband beers...) too much to ask of my husband? He says he is fine letting it go - probably because he still is holding onto a keg-orator from about the same time period that I wouldn't mind listing in the middle of the night when no one is looking...
So, where do you draw the line at keeping a treasure or parting with trash?

6 comments:

Joyce said...

I think you're right on getting rid of this one. If you had been using it, that would be another thing. If you kept it, and started using it, I'll bet it would be a terrible energy hog, like a very old refrigerator.

My husband's college house had one of those things, also used for contraband beer;)

arduous said...

It's a tough thing. One of the difficulties of not buying new stuff is that I have a hard time giving up what I already have because I KNOW I HATE THESE CLUNKY UGLY SHOES AND NEVER WEAR THEM BUT ZOMG WHAT IF I DECIDE I WANT ROCK THE CLUNK LOOK THEN I WON'T BE ABLE TO BUY A NEW REPLACEMENT AUGHHHHHHHHH!!!

Heh, so my inner voice tends to be a little dramatic. Anyway, it has taken a lot of work, but not I approach it from a more zen point of view. Less stuff means less stuff to haul around, less stuff to clean, less stuff cluttering my apt and my head.

eco 'burban mom said...

Joyce - Oh, you bet it would be an energy P.I.G! I looked inside the refrigeraton part and oh, my goodness. Talk about vintage! And, to run an entire appliance just for beer? Silly, when we have a perfectly good fridge already. He is just having a hard time parting with his frat house brother ways... With 4 kids - those days are OVER! :o)

Arduous - I think you and my husband have the same affliction. We have been married 7 years and I am STILL finding all sorts of wacky wierdess he has squirreled away. The black, snakeskin with silver cowboy boots make my ribs hurt I laughed so hard! You want 'em? I can send 'em to ya!

Chile said...

Every time I'm unsure whether to keep or not, I think about loading up the U-Haul. You see, some day we are gonna move out of this rental house into our own place. We have moved plenty of times and always on our own. The more crap I can get rid of, the easier it will be. Other considerations: Easier to pack! And smaller truck. Less gas.

If we were staying put, I'd still get rid of stuff just for the space. Gotta make space for the canning jars.

Melissa said...

I find people so flaky with the Craigslist thing, if the item's not worth at least $50, I just donate it. I'm not allowed to give any more of my husband's stuff away without asking though. Who would have guessed he had a sentimental attachment to a fanny pack?!?

ruralaspirations said...

Having moved 7 times in 7 years of marriage we've become ruthless when it comes to decluttering and parting with collectables. I have to say that the number of times I've regretted getting rid of something far pales in comparison to the number of things I've never missed after they're gone.