July 31, 2013

The Sale by the Insane Poet

It's almost eleven 'o' clock and we still haven't found the zoom a2 effects pedal I've been wanting for months now, but mother keeps assuring me we will.

We've been to almost every, what mom calls "rummage sale", in town and only one last one in the newspaper draws her attention.

After about fifteen minutes of driving and desperate hoping, we pull up to a big white house and an open garage where the sale was taking place.

Mother and I get out of the car and walk up to the sale. "This is kind of fun, isn't it?" She says.

"More like embarrassing." I grunt. I walk up to a man; about fifty, sitting in a white lawn chair next to the garage and ask in a soft voice, "Do you happen to have any acoustic effects pedals?"

He laughs and in a sarcastic tone says, "You're going to have to speak up son. I'm an old man you know."

I speak loudly and stern this time. "Any effects pedals for a guitar?"

He chuckles then gets up and walks to the back of the garage. He comes back with the pedal I had been wanting. It was perfect! Then I stared at the price tag, my hopes crumbling, my dreams diminishing right before my eyes. I couldn't afford it and I knew my mother certainly couldn't. "I don't have enough money for it, I'm sorry."

I watched the old man think for a moment then hand the pedal to me. "Put it to good use." He smiles.