As part of my downsizing, I wanted to sell some furniture, a bed and a bedside table . I didn’t want it, but it wasn’t junk. I didn’t want to leave it on the sidewalk to be ferreted away in the night by bedless strangers. No, I thought it could garner a bit of cash. But how to sell?
Garage sale? They are a lot of work; you have to wake up early, and my husband was cringing at the suggestion. Plus, it’s a bunch of strangers who can see your house, that you might be moving, etc. Charity drop? Well, I did just take a bunch of clothes and a bookcase to Goodwill, but again, I wanted a bit of cash for the bedroom stuff.
Which leaves Craigslist. I’ve bought and sold and given away for free on the site, but that was before two recent murders where it’s said that the victims met the people on Craigslist. One of the people who were killed was George Weber in his apartment in Brooklyn. I used to work with George back in San Francisco at KGO radio. He was a great guy. Very good to me. He was a night time talk host, and I was a lowly traffic reporter, but he involved me in bits. Once, he interviewed my mom on the radio because he couldn’t believe she really hated Mother’s Day as I had told him. Another time, my cousin asked if I could get his young daughter singing a Christmas song to be played on KGO. (She was in pageants at the time.) I thought , oh, yeah, right, it’s a news station and big one. But George did it. He played little Velvet’s song.
Craigslist is supposed to be a bulletin board for stuff. But a stranger comes to you, or you come to them. A security guy that I work with who use to be a county sheriff said he thinks “Craigslist is creepy.” Furthermore, he has his mail go to a PO box; he doesn’t ever give out his real address. Maybe that’s not so strange.
I’m sorry George came to such a terrible end that we live in a world where you question if you should sell a side table.