But garage sales are so much more than that. Garage sales prove that summer is a time of transformation. Muscle cars resurface. My friend John stops gritting his teeth. And people who spend 364 days of the year being shy and reserved suddenly decide to drag some very telling junk from the depths of their closets and display it to total strangers on their lawn.
Garage sales are a window on the soul of a household.
That's why I stop for them. I hate shopping. I stopped at a garage sale last year where a very conservative, elderly couple were selling the funkiest collection of 50's beatnik jazz records that I've ever seen outside a collector's shop. It's not every day that you're transformed into JoJo Savard's dyslexic brother. I may not be able to see the future, but when I stop at garage sales, I've got front row seats to the past.