Vintage Pocket Tuba – $250 (East Village, Manhattan)

I am offering up for sale my antique pocket tuba. It was something that I thought I was going to get into but then I barely ever played it. There aren’t very many parts written out for pocket tuba. It’s kind of a novelty instrument but could be put to good use by the right person. Maybe in one of those Cabaret carnival gypsy style bands that seem to be making a resurgence. The tuba plays about two or three octave up from a standard large tuba. Despite it’s name it fits in very few pockets.

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REPLIES

“looks more like a pocket euphonium what brand is marked on the bell and other info”

Hands-free Antique Bicycle Horn – $75 (Fort Greene, Brooklyn)

Before the days when you could just squeeze a bike horn or ding a high-tech little bell you had to blow into your bicycle horn in order to journey safely through the streets of New York. This bike horn is the hands-free model that actually wraps around your neck so that you can safely keep both hands on your bars. This bike horn still works great and will help ward off all of those pesky vans on Bedford Ave. This is a Lee Oskar bike horn. You can still get reproductions of these but I’m told that the originals are very hard to find. $75 OBO

Location: Fort Greene

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Need someone to tuck me in (Union Square)

Hello, I have an odd request. I’ve had chronic insomnia for most of my life – as long as I can remember. I’ve tried everything – pills, chamomile, warm milk, hypnosis, hypnosis and pills. It has affected most of my waking days and I just don’t know where to turn. This is where my odd request comes in. My new therapist has come up with what could be my real last ditch effort. He suggests that I have someone tuck me in at night. The problem is that I live alone. What I need is for someone to come by each night around 10 and tuck me under the covers. I could hire two people and you could alternate days. $20/night. I will be needing trustworthy people as I will be giving you a key as I will be tucked in and you will be seeing yourself out. Could be very temporary or on going depending on how well it works. I’m willing to try anything. Thanks.

REPLIES

“Hi. chronic insomnia huh?”

“wow.. I saw your post on craigslist.I thinks that its awful .I know sometimes happen to me. when you want to sleep but you can not.. if you want and still need one i can give you a help. just let me know.”

“Hi, my name is L****.

I saw your request on Craigslist, and I was wondering if you were still looking.
I would love to be able to help you out if you still are. Though I am young (20y.o.),
almost anyone who knows me would say that I am quite a trustworthy person.
Your post didn’t really specify any other qualifications, but if you’re looking for
someone a little older, I completely understand.

A little about me, people often describe me as being kind and caring, though a little
on the quiet side. I would consider myself pretty laid back and easy to get along with,
and I would hope I won’t discomfort or make you feel uneasy in any way.

If theres anything you’d like to ask me, feel free to email me back at this address.
If I don’t hear back from you, I really hope you’re treatment goes well and you’re able
to sleep well and have a good nights rest.”

PLastic Doohickey – LA – $10

I have no idea what this thing is. I found it under the seat of the car i just bought. Neat shape with ergonomic foam handle. The thing has holes on each end for mounting on your wall. There is a damaged sticker on one side. It looks like the thing might be called a “craper”. So, maybe it’s for cooking or something. I’d say it’s worth about 10 bucks.

• Location: LA
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• OK to contact me about appearing in CL documentary series

REPLIES –

“O yahhhhhh-that’s fer scrapin deh ice n snow of dat der windshield.”

“Thanks  for a good chuckle- I can tell you  are not  from snow or ice country. The ‘doohickey’ is a SCRAPER (not ‘craper’)  and it  is used to scrape snow or  frost off your windshield in cold weather. That’s why  you found it in the CAR. (No,it does not belong in the kitchen for  cooking. Don’t even try – it  is NOT  designed for heat, and  would probably create a stinky melted mess  if   you used it in a frying pan.) Anyway,  it is not worth $10. My  guess  is probably 50 cents  to $2 (tops).”

“it is a ice scraper for your winshield”

“an ice scraper!  for the car windows!”

“that’s funny. silly Californian. it’s an ice scraper for the windows – check the history of your car – probably has some salt rust and snow damage underneath. I am nominating you for best of craigslist.”

“Hello is this still for sale? Talk to you soon…”

Lot of my own Poetry Books (NYC Financial District) free

I am giving away all of my books of poetry and haikus. I’ve been filling them with what I now know to be absolute rubbish since college. I once thought that I would make a career out of this but, alas, life proves to be most capricious. For some reason I cannot bear to throw them away. Instead I’m going to give them away to an absolute stranger so that I may stand naked before them with every wrinkle, rib and mole under scrutiny. This must be some type of bizarre self imposed therapy that I am putting myself through. I can only hope that I will come out cleansed on the other side. Anyway, the books are free. First come, first served. I don’t ever want to write another poem again.

• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

REPLIES

“Hi: I am intrigued by what you wrote. like to get these. If OK, please give the location and time for pick up.”

“Hi my name is ***. I am interested in having your poetry books, although I think it would be best to hold on to them as I have my own from many years ago and everytime I read them it brings me back to the mindset I was in and helps me to remember where I was in my life at that moment in time, despite the poem being horrible to another reader, haha. However, if you are positive that you do not want them, I will happilly take them from you. I live in midtown and can meet you anywhere.”

“Hi. Recently, I sent my first novella to a publisher for evaluation.  The feedback I got was that my dialogue is stilted and my characters are one dimensional because I don’t inform the reader about what they think, or what their actions actually meant to each of the characters.  Because of the nature of the story, and that it is autobiographical – I chose not to assign a meaning.  For me as the writer, their betrayal is a little to close to the bone.  I chose to allow the reader to decide what it meant – to them.  But the publisher had their own ideas.  Maybe it was just therapy for me to write them as well.
So, first let me say… as writers does it REALLY matter if someone in this time and this space completely gets it?  Look around you and I in the world that we are living in.  Do they even care if they understand the nuances of what you say from your heart?                         Please remember, that the artists that have had the very most impact upon the world were the biggest white elephants of their    time.  Da Vinci, Van Gogh. Michaelangelo.                                                 So here’s my offer.  Even if for this moment you are totally bummed out and your poetry has no material value to you.  It matters        to me, the total stranger in Brooklyn.  Just give me the right to publish them if I can ever create the opportunity, or ever have the time to go through them one by one and select the ones that I like the most, I can. I am swamped with other stuff right now, and I am not promising to try to publish them.  I just want to be allowed to if I want to. And if you change your mind about wanting the originals some day, just write or call and I will gladly return them to you.”

“Dear Poet Poster- It saddened me to read your post. Am a composer/poet/college professor…advanced degrees etc, made my living my whole life from writing and teaching writing.  I well know the personal/theraputic inner-wrestlings we creative types go through…have often wanted to divest myself of my weaker work…to burn or trash it in some form.  Never had the impulse to give it away to a perfect stranger, but can certainly identify with that impulse.  Nonetheless I just wanna say… PLEASE do not give away those volumes! They may become meaningful to you at some point later in your life.  There’s self-knowledge in there and possibly more quality than you think.  At very least…consider photocopying their contents and giving the copies away (if something about the naked-in-front-of-a stranger part seems meaningful) but keeping the originals.That you didn’t have a career in poetry of course does not make them rubbish.  Please hang on to this deep/essential part of your personal/creative history.  Not wanting to write another poem again is one thing; squandering and losing possession of these precious leaves of growth, quite another. Hope you’ll pardon the presumption of my note and I’ll now get out of your way.  :)”

“do i have to entertain you to get them?  send the most inspiring or ironic email?  im a bit too worn down now to do that now. i can promise you that i’ll read them all though.  in time.  and that i will do my best to keep them safe. if you’re really in the financial district, i might have to go to work first.  im in bushwick but headed to nolita in twenty minutes or so. hit me up if those guys are still looking for a home.”

“I would be more than happy to give them a good home.”

“what you’re crazy!
i’ll take them!”

“I would love your poetry. I myself write and read poetry and would respect your collection. let me know if/ when we could meet up, or if you want a writing sample to know I’m serious :)”

“I saw your ad and am very intrigued.  If you are sure you want to get rid of these, I think it would be absolutely fascinating to read them.  Give me a call if you want to set up a time, and keep my number for the future in case you ever want them back.  Thanks.”

“Hey, I don’t want to tell you what to do or anything but I think you should keep those just for your own personal recollection of memories that you’ve obviously pooled into a unique format (not just a diary).
When you get old or whatever, you can try and read 15 books to someone or tell kids some poems for school, idk, whatever but I wouldn’t give them away if I were you. Anyways, not my business. Good luck.”

“I am touched by your plea. If it makes you feel any better…the problem might be that your poems suck?”

“Hello, I already emailed, but I’m just so interested in the books that I had to email again to find out whether or not they were still available. My name is ***, I’m 20 years old, I’m a writer and a slacker, and I’m terribly, terribly smitten with the idea of reading the inner mind of another individual. Please give me an email back, even if it’s just to tell me they’re no longer up for grabs.”

“Don’t give them away, if you have put so much effort into them keep and find yourself again in your poetry. Don’t give them away!!!”

“Hello. I would almost like to convince you to keep them but if you really are over it, I will gladly take them off your hands.”

“I would love to take these out of your hands.  Would be a great addition to my library.”

“I would love to take your poetry. I suggest you not quit writing but I would still love the books”

“would that i could be
closer to your poetry
it is such a shame”

“I want your books.  I can pick them up right this moment.”

“I would value these books. and the timing is interesting.”

“i hope its not just a phase. u may regret later on” “You must be young and stupid…dont get rid of your work,dont do it. Wrap them up and hide them with a friend or distant relative, wait ten years and then get them back. Nothing looks the same as time passes,nothing. You shouldnt stop writing either, its a sin. Ive gone back to old poetry Ive written and was very proud of myself, but Ive also gone back years after and couldnt rip it to pieces fast enough…I do understand.”

“I did the same thing myself. This is most unusual. I thought I was the only one that would give away every emotion felt for years. My friends and girlfriend at the time said I was insane. But it felt good. I’m hoping perhaps to come full circle.
Are the books still available?”

“I would love a poetry book. I could for sure use them as inspiration for my collaging. This is so sweet of you to do. They seem beautiful!”

“I heard that of the many suicides off of the golden gate bridge
all have occurred on the side facing the bay, as opposed to facing the sea.
Is this why you would rather throw your poetry to someone else, rather than in the trash to rot?
My memory is awful,
I once knew the name of the haiku poet who would write poems and
fold them into paperboats and float them down river.
I’m not sure why I’m writing you.
I have my doubts that this giveaway is such a big dramatic deal actually.
If you only wanted this for a career and now realize that’s not possible
maybe you got all you needed out of these books.
A more cynical person might say that maybe you came to realize that this isn’t
a lifestyle you needed in the first place.
That you were never a ture poet (i.e. someone who needs poetry badly enough that it makes them suicidal/faithful that
hell or highwater job or no poetry would carry them through).
I think that take of the sacrificial artist, the purist, is idealized by our society, cause its an approach we typically hear described by those
heroes who made it out the other side with gray hairs, a gravelly voice and a unique take on life.
What about those who died along the way?
I wonder how many they are.
I wonder if the recognition even mattered by the time they passed.

good luck.

p.s.
sorry for all the philisophical bull. I just felt provoked by your post.

I very much want your books.
I will read them probably completely and
definitely have use for them.
please give me a call or text so I can arrange a pick up.”

“Please let me have them. Though Im sure that one day I may have to face the same reality  perhaps reading yours may give me a sense of (false) hope.”

“dont give them away they are a part of you  just put them in a closet or give to a friend to hold
how long have you been writing”

“Hi. I think i want them….it’s hard to say that I truely want them since I think it an injustice to you if I don’t completely understand them. Perhaps they would give me some comfort for my own feelings about life, not to say yours are inherently morbid like mine. However, there is no downside.”

“This seems rather rash, and not well thought out. Just because you (haven’t yet!) made a career out of your words doesn’t mean you can’t do other things with them (song lyrics, for example.). I just wanted to offer some encouragement – from one write of “rubbish” to another. Hope things get better for you soon.”

“I will be honored to have your poetry,  if it wasn’t for poetry I be in therapy, it helps me to write about my life experiences sincerely”

“fascinating, but sounding tragic to this poet. if you still have them i’ll take them and figure out why later. this place is already filled with poetry notebooks of friends, going back to college days, so yours would fit in. are you sure this is a wise move?”

“If you haven’t given your books away yet, I would love to come pick them up.. my name is *** and I have nothing to read”

“PLEASE DONT GIVE YOUR POEMS AWAYS ..THIS IS PRECIOUS!”

Papasan Hamper (Brooklyn) $25

We are moving into a studio and will be needing a smaller hamper. This is one of those fancy papasan 2-piece hampers that everyone was buying back in the 90’s. It holds lots and lots of clothes. You can adjust the hamper angle so that the clothes will face away from you. On laundry day some of my friends will actually sit in the hamper. Fancy padded hamper liner is a grayish green.

• Location: Brooklyn
• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
• 

REPLIES

“Is it still available and in fairly good condition?
I’m interested.”

“Hi, does the hamper hold one weeks worth of clothes or do you think two weeks would fit?”

“Not sure that I need the hamper but your ad is HYSTERICAL, I love it.
Brooklyn is kind of far to drive for a hamper, I live in Suffolk.”