»One man's junk

In the time-honoured San Francisco tradition, I had a garage sale today. Or, more accurately, I had a wish-I-had-a-garage sale in which I didn't really sell much. If other people could use the stuff that I found in the basement, it shall be theirs.
I did put a smile on someone's face by selling them a dual-deck cassette player (ooh!) and a box of cassettes ("Van Morrison? The Cure? You're selling this?" he exclaimed) for $1; a 5-disc CD changer went for $5; and then I got tired of thinking about money and put up a "you want, you take" sign. A heavily-tattooed man with a backpack started pawing through a box of old office toys, and stared at a Happy Meal three-dimensional Yoda thingy for a while. "Whoah." he said. "Maybe it's because I'm stoned, but this is waaaaay cool." When I told him he could have it, he lit up. "Oh, that's great. I'm a found-art collage artist, and I'm on kind of a bender today." He walked off with a box full of the geegaws and whatnots that were piled around my space at Topica.
Another fellow stopped by, his Pirates hat framing a sunbeaten face. "How much for the bike?" "Free. You'll need to give it a clean and put some air in the tyres." "Oh, this will be great for Burning Man!" and off it went to a happy home.
I gave the grandson of the guys across the street the old Maguro trainer I bought in Chicago (off a newsgroup -- what a concept!). Someone picked the skewer off it, but I think that a bike shop will sell them a replacement for a few dollars.