In preparation for moving, I decided to purge some unneeded furniture. The nicest was a horizontal teak entertainment unit. You could put your television on top and the shelving below could be used for various media, books or decorative pieces. We had bought it over thirty years earlier for about $250. It had languished in our garage for the past five years, somehow not fitting with our current furnishings. I had found that, in the living room, it tended to become a receptacle or dumping ground for various household flotsam and jetsam. There were various scratches on the surface and I had opened my car door on it a few times.
I had quick response when I advertised it on the ubiquitous Craigslist. Someone came by the next day, by arrangement, and paid the full $50 I had asked. No quibbling. I was pleased with myself.
Less than a week later, while checking the status of the other unsold furniture, I came across my former entertainment unit. It had been polished, maybe sanded, maybe re-stained. This time the description included measurements and the photograph included the appropriate books, records and decorate vases. What I had considered dated was described as 'vintage'. And the price . . . $225.
I must confess that a series of emotions ensued: dismay, annoyance, embarrassment . . . giving way before much time had passed to grudging admiration and acceptance. My purchaser had done what I had not: added value to the product. He had spent time, skill and had the equipment and materials and marketing know-how that I do not. Why should I feel tricked? Even knowing what I do now, I don't think I would try to duplicate his efforts. Rather, I might hold on to the piece of furniture and let it reside in our future garage.