Maison 21’s blog is one of the funniest ones in the blogosphere. This week he’s been sharing his reaction to the “estate sale” at Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch. He’s calling his posts “The good, the bad, the ugly and the creepy.” And from the looks of things, the Prince of Pop really had some, er, questionable taste. Life-size statues of butlers, nasty leather Laz-E-Boy chairs, bizarro golden King Tut harps, the list goes on and on. And don’t get me started on the children’s scooters. Eeew. Aside from MJ’s allegedly criminally creepy sale, Maison’s blog brings me to some fond memories of bizarre estate sales I’ve attended in all these years I’ve been junking. Like the sale in Griffin, Georgia, held by an elderly woman’s great-niece. The woman’s parents owned a small-town department store for many years. She never married, spending her life caring for mama and papa after their deaths, closing the store eventually, and staying on in the family homeplace, but adding additional storerooms onto it over the years. It was only when Great-Aunt Whoozie died that her heirs discovered that for 20 or 30 years she’d been steadily “looting” the family store, squirrelling away stuff for…who knows? She liked to pick out dress patterns and fabric and notions, pin them all together in a paper sack, then stash them in her happy place. She also liked porcelain what-nots and lots and lots of cotton housedresses (from the 40s and 50s) and silk and satin slips and nighties. Dozens and dozens and dozens of them. I wrote a story about the resulting estate sale for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, and still have one of the housedresses and a satin slip from the sale. A junker’s dream–a whole warehouse full of old, untouched store stock. Good times! I’ve been to more than one of these obsessive-compulsive estate sales. And yes, I realize this is a mental illness, and it’s sad and disturbing. Still…Once, the late homeowner had developed a craze for buying wine and wine-related items. The dining room was stuffed full of hundreds and hundreds of wine glasses, decanters, and wine doo-dads. The entire basement–and this was a huge basement–held crates and crates of wine, none of them ever unpacked. Much of it had gone bad. The poor woman also liked paper goods for every holiday imaginable. My friend Marifae got a great mahogany china cabinet from that sale, and I bought a sweet straw boater. How about you? In honor of spring estate sale season blossoming, anybody got any bizarro estate sale stories to share? C’mon and share, and I’ll pick a random winner and award you…something cool.