Saturday morning, while waiting until I had to be somewhere, I chanced upon a White Elephant sale held in north Oakland, near one of the senior citizen facilities.  It was the kind of place that if an elderly woman asks you “How do you like the White Elephant sale?” and you say “My issue is, I think that white elephants get a bum rap by being the de facto synonym for junk that no one wants.  For example, let’s say you had a white elephant, and there’s a bunch of other white elephants who want to kill you.  You could train your white elephant to infiltrate their ranks and act as a double agent on your behalf"--the woman is likely to look at you dazedly, touch your shoulder, and say “You’re not my grandson, are you?”

The surreal part, though, were the two security guards posted at the entrance.  Two bored asian teenagers wore bright orange vests and greeted people as they walked in and out. 

Don’t get me wrong: security guards can be good things.  If you’re shopping in a Safeway at dicey part of Oakland, you sometimes feel good about seeing two policemen keeping an eye on things even as they peer intently at the doughnut selection.

But at a White Elephant sale on a Saturday morning at a senior citizen’s facility, what the hell is going to happen?

“Oh my God.  Someone stole my chipped saucer collection and two rusty candle holders!”

“Look!  It’s Irma!  She’s got them and she’s halfway to the exit already!”

“Great scott!  She just might make it, too!  I don’t know what she did to retrofit her walker, but she’s moving like greased lightning.”