No, I'm not talking about myself. I'm referring to the few entertaining tidbits I'm going to share with you today, one of which will make you laugh so hard, you might want to empty your bladder beforehand.
There are little holiday helpmates popping up in facilities here and there as operators figure out that a simple tinkering of signage conveniently turns conventional, everyday "self-storage" into fun and friendly "elf storage." A blurb published this week in the San Diego Union-Tribune highlights a Price Self-Storage facility that, for the past 18 years, has been blocking out the first neon "S" on its sign during the holiday season. In testament to the fact that the gimmick really does attract new customers, Manager Angie Ackerschott said one caller even asked, “How many elves can I fit in storage?”
Tacoma (Wash.) "Elf" Storage has also gotten in on that holiday action, and perhaps other facilities too. If you're storing elves at your site, comment to the blog and let me know about it! Better yet, e-mail me a photo of your sign so I can post it next week ([email protected]).
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The papers have been flooded in recent months with tales of woe, stories of villainous storage operators selling off customers' goods at auction. How can we be so cold, so uncaring? the writers want to know. Guess they never stop to think that self-storage is a business, and unpaid units mean lost revenue and opportunity, which unlimately translates to hardship for owner and manager alike.
Storage companies are targeted for ousting renters out of storage in a way apartment complexes are not targeted for evicting non-paying tenants, or banks are not targeted for foreclosing on homes. It's as though the media—and by extension, the public—doesn't believe our business is real. We're just bottomfeeders waiting to catch the detritus. We don't do this to make money; we feed on heartache. Bah.
But one particular article caught my eye the other day, in part because it was well-written, but also because it was a more sociological piece than most I've seen on the topic of storage sales. And the title, of course. "Raiders of the Lost Crap," published in Willamette Week, focuses on the social construct of the lien-sale practice:
"In the past 30 years, Portland and its exurbs have become dotted with self-storage units, an industry that has exploded because of the increasing number of people who have too many things to save, or no place to save them. Unintentionally, this industry has created another: a subculture of auctioneers, antique dealers, hobbyists, pensioners and contracted buyers, ready to pounce if a renter is three months late on his storage-unit payments," writes author Aaron Mesh.
When storage operators aren't being targeted for selling the contents of delinquent units, then it's the buyers who are under scrutiny. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and similarly, one man's hard luck is another's fortune. Continues Mesh:
"In the economic meltdown, reams have been written about foreclosures, estate auctions, and the speculators who use others’ misfortune as an opportunity to buy low. But this shadow economy of capitalizing on somebody else’s nightmare is old news for storage-locker hunters, who for decades have made livings—or at least supplemented their Social Security—by waiting for others to miss their payments."
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I'll turn the page from doom and gloom to deliver the gutbuster I promised at the opening. Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from a cherished colleague who wished to spread a little holiday cheer. He shared with me this link to a website for "Jones' Big Ass Truck Rental and Storage" in Illinois. Check out your competition, folks! Make sure you scroll down the page and view Toby's YouTube video. It'll deliver on the laughs, I guarantee it.
Happy holidays to you all. And in the words of Junk Specialist Tobias Jones, "In my yard, I don't care!"
