Carla and I scored big at a garage sale on Saturday, June 21, 2001. The house was in the Studio City hills, and the people running it were as nice as could be. The prices were cheap, too. I forgot garage sales could be so much fun. Almost every one I've been to in the last few years have had nothing but crap: rag-like clothes, cracked fake tupperware, gnawed baby toys, paper coffee filters in dusty plastic bags, lame best-seller paperbacks, etc. And the prices are usually way too high, like the people are expecting to make enough to retire to the French Riviera. This gargage sale though, was like a dream. I was getting hot and sweaty just looking at the great stuff. (Click on small pictures for a larger picture.)