Gone Booting!

Today's musing is about how much that is bought here

(in an average high street)...

...ends up here!
(an average Sunday morning car boot sale)

I can bear witness to this, following my experience of being dragged (er..I mean encouraged) by my friend Ada to the Woolpit Car Boot Sale today.

The morning started with a sharp wake-up at 5am, with just enough time to get everything together, before Ada turned up in her van.

We chug-chug-chugged along the A14 to Woolpit (in what felt like the car-booter wacky races) to set up our pitch, amidst the gathering of the early vultures, pecking at the bones of our collective clutter.

After enjoying the first hour in sunshine, with the odd sale made along the way...along came a man, who had sold Ada's husband the van...he'd recognised it from ten feet away (apologies for the sudden trip into rhyming text).

Ada & the man comparing vans
(you can see the man's new van just in the centre at the back)

Other highlights included a visit from our friend Norma, modelling the wackiest item that could be found at the Boot Sale today.

Below is the stall that takes today's prize for the largest collection of cuddly toys...

...and here is the most relaxed stall-holder of the day, enjoying the first day of sunshine in July.

...and back to our pitch... gee-whizz was it hard work. By the end of the morning, I reduced most things to 10p to try and get rid of them, as I was determined not to come back with the clutter that I was so desperate to get rid of.

I didn't do too badly in decluttering, only returning with a couple of baskets of items, but in terms of profit, I only just managed to collect £40. Ada on the other hand seemed to return with a larger amount of items, but managed to pull in a fantastic £100. You can see who's better at this game can't you!

There must have been over a hundred stall-holders at the car-boot sale today, all busy sitting there with their eclectic range of items, from traders to collectors, all waiting for people to part with their cash. With this number, the income for the boot-sale organisers must have been around about £700.

Research carried out by Prudential in 2005 has revealed that over 10 million people in the UK have had a car boot stall and almost £1.5bn is spent at car boot sales every year, with the most popular items being books, followed by toys, clothes and music. This was the typical fayre at the boot-sale this morning.

Although it is a great way of getting some cash for what are now redundant items, it did make me evaluate how much my family has spent over the last decade on things to keep us entertained and to make our house look lovely. What was yesterday's pleasures are today's clutter. Have those experiences really justified the money spent in the past, concluding with today's efforts in trying to get-rid of just some of the clutter (for a mere £40)?

I am beginning to think not. The videos, the many children's toys (lots of which have been bestowed on us) and baby gadgets which seemed a must at the time, have all resulted in short-lived satisfaction, growing in number and gradually swallowing up what little space there is in our home!

On one hand the car boot sale is a god-send for both buyers and sellers alike and a must for recycling our belongings, but on the other hand it is also a depressing graveyard of consumerism, with people picking over the bones of our dim and distant lifestyles.

So will there be another boot sale for me? Well there is plenty of stuff still left in the loft and Ada has just sent me a note asking if I fancy it again next Sunday, so maybe! However, the Prudential research has also revealed that Wales is one of the more profitable places to hold a boot sale, with typical earnings coming in at £80. So I think we should get in the van, cross the river Severn and make our fortunes in Cymru. We could get to visit our respective relatives at the same time, killing two birds with one stone! Don't worry Ada, I only jest.

Anyway, If you are getting inspired to dust down your own clutter and find a car boot sale near you, visit www.carbootjunction.com.

If you want to follow up some interesting academic research about how we end up wanting to get rid of our goods in the first place, have a look at the excellent paper written by Professor Nicky Gregson, (Department of Geography, University of Sheffield) entitled: Disposal, Devaluation and Consumerism: or how and why things come not to matter.

Eurodiversion

Having been a closet fan of the Eurovision Song Contest since the 1970s I was looking forward to this year's spectacular from Helsinki. Eurovision has always been in my life. In the 70s and 80s I used to sit and watch it drinking Dandelion & Burdock with my Nan (who often sat with her coat and hat on - I still don't know why). Then in the late '80s we used to have kitsch student parties and Eurovision was always an excuse to drink lots of beer and cheap plonk. Now, it's a bit of a pipe & slippers night in with an expensive bottle of wine, cuddled up to my Beloved, whilst enjoying the familar commentary of Terry Wogan.

However, Beloved dropped into conversation last week that he was off out ~ what on Eurovision night! That meant no-one to rejoice with (what I'd rejoice I don't know), but the only benefit of staying in to watch Eurovision is to watch it with someone else! There's no point in watching cheese if you're on your own!

Happily, my good friend (let's call her Ada) was in the same pickle. Her husband (err...Ralph sounds like a good name) was off visiting family so she too was home alone. So with one invitation to Barrow to share the Eurovision experience (with kids in tow), off I went leaving Beloved to a guilt-free night out!

A bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape later and an evening of gossip, I remember seeing UK's entry Scooch and I have a vague memory that they were only outdone in the costume department by the Ukrainian entry, whose lead singer resembled a cross between Elton John and Christopher Biggins. And the winners...Serbia, oh well. I'd like to say maybe next time eh for the UK but I don't think so...well not unless we have a cunning plan!

Perhaps the UK organisers (and our voting public) should realise that we need to move away from Euro-pop gimmicky performances. It hasn't worked since Bucks Fizz. More than that we need to break into the tactical voting system.

Maybe we should spread our options...take advantage of our political map and fight for separate entries from England Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland (isn't this what happened to the former USSR countries). Okay, the Welsh, Scottish and Northern Irish would probably not vote for the English entry, but it could set the cat amongst the pigeons and enable a representative corner of the UK to gain pole position!

However, forget the winning. As long as Terry Wogan is still around to help us through the night. That's all that matters.