I got really lucky when I moved up to Presque Isle. There was an available, affordable apartment for rent that suited all of my needs spatially.
I’d arrived with only the things I could cram into the cab and truck bed of a Ford F-150 truck, which I am eternally grateful to my older brother for allowing me to lease from him for the time I’m in Maine.
But the apartment was empty. I needed and desired a few things to fill up my space and allow me to live efficiently and comfortably. There certainly wasn’t enough money in the bank to go out and purchase all new furnishings, so I had to get creative.
Thank the Lord I arrived on a warm afternoon in late August, because apparently yard sales are a favorite weekend pastime of small town Mainers. I musta seen forty garage sales that weekend, and that’s just in Presque Isle alone (a town of 9,000). Around every corner was a family with a lawn full of crap for sale. I was a buyer in a seller’s market. I picked up a good chunk of what I needed, along with a bunch of other cool and somewhat useful crap over three weekends of garage sale combing.
Oh the crap I’d find! A wooden garbage can that looked like something you’d see in a north woods lakeside fishing lodge. A recliner-ottoman set that was missing a few screws, but priced right at $8. A full-size bedframe from a motivated seller who was moving down to Virginia. A functioning 36’ big box TV with remote that I’d normally designate for smashing, but excitedly purchased for only $10. And those were just the essentials.
The unique treasures that I came across were astounding. A ceramic pitcher that was adorned with a scene of a 16th century explorer meeting a native tribe. A hollowed-out duck and a giraffe that would become my remote boat and empty-your-pockets dish. And the crown jewel, a felt portrait of a majestically headdressed Maliseet chief.
The other big bargain up here is the thrift stores. That fulfilled the rest of my furnishing needs, and more. So much more.
I have personally set a $5.00 spending limit when I go to two of Aroostook County’s biggest thrift store chains: The Cubby and Catholic Charities. I’d fill out the rest of my kitchenware and basic furniture needs at these two places.
On consecutive weekends I dipped my hand in the jar and pulled out two real plums of old-school beer mugs.
The first was a discarded prom favor that I couldn’t fathom someone would part ways with. It was an original drawing of a cartoon beaver carrying two briefcases and on it read: Class of ’76: Movin’ On.
The other was quite frankly the most elegantly simple beer mug I’d ever encountered. Its statement was unmistakably blunt. Its color scheme supportive of its mission. Its size perfect for a 12 oz bottle of Budweiser. It has one purpose and one purpose only as it awaits in my cupboard: to accompany me for classic events like March Madness, or the Winter Olympics, or just your average competition, like a weeknight ballgame or Sunday filled with football. It’s perfect for any occasion involving a couch, a beer, and an athletic contest.
I could go in there and spend hours, days even combing their music sections. With a record player/cassette/CD/MP3 combo player sitting in my living room, no medium is off limits. And at 25 cents a pop, the possibilities are endless.
As anyone who’s been thrift store record scouting knows, you have to sift through a lot of Herb Alpert, Neil Sedaka, and Glen Campbell before you find anything by anyone you’d actually want to listen to. Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Bully Joel and Bing Crosby’s Merry Christmas were among my solid grabs.
And if you haven’t discovered yet, I’m a sucker for an interesting album cover or a catchy band name. I had to check out the Moms and Dads. They looked like a couple of 60 year old polka bums who are often out of tune because each of their hearing aids is at a different level. Stu Daye and Free Parking were a must have because of the Picasso car lot on the cover. Shakin’ Stevens? How’d you know I’m a sucker for any band that even mentions a Steve.
I usually just shop the LP’s because they’re where you find the best material, but I didn’t even realize that the cassette tapes were a much more concentrated collection of precious jewels. Billy Joel, REO Speedwagon, Eddie Money, Lionel Richie… THEY HAVE ALL MY FAVORITES. And not just that, they have full albums from one-hit wonders and bands you make fun of, like Boz Skaggs, Don McClean, Europe, and Tone Loc. At only a quarter a piece, you’re a sucker if you don’t jump on that deal. I was even persuaded to pull the trigger on the Caddyshack 2 soundtrack, which I’d later find out is only slightly less awful than the actual movie.
But perhaps the biggest, most intriguing, most wonderful, most pointless find was a wooden 1964 37-key Hammond electric organ for $5. A bargain at twice the price! The minute I set eye on the price tag, I was sucked in. Call it the cheap Polock in me. Never mind that I’d never had a piano lesson in my life. Never mind that I live in a 1-bedroom apartment and the keyboard only had one volume, loud. Never mind that it would probably become a novelty end table. I had to pull the trigger.
Who knew what gold mines I’d find in the remote country of America’s closest county to Europe?
Jake Berent 
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