Tuesday, November 23, 2010

And the worst part is, you can't even buy any fleas!

Well, now that we've all finished out little chorus of "Getting to Know You", lets move on to some lighter fare, shall we?

I have a confession to make.  I despise flea markets.

The very act of rummaging through stuff that other people are interested in throwing out, for the purposes of buying it and taking it home, is deeply puzzling to me.  It's not that I have an issue with used stuff; I find eBay and Craig's list very useful.  But in those places, I say "I need one of these things here" and the web site says "Lucky you!  Herbert436 in Duluth Minnesota has one of those things and wants to sell it to you."  Simple.  Expedient.  And I never have to know if Herbert436 has teeth or not.

Not so with flea markets.  These are the People of WalMart, only the People are also working behind the counters. As it happens, I live with a man who LOVES flea markets, and who comes from a long line of flea-market-loving people.  So occasionally, I grit my teeth and follow him in.  I normally spend my time on these excursions shaking my head and muttering to myself.  Which makes me fit right in, I guess.

When in groups, however, I have an opportunity to engage in a game called, "WTF is that???", in which the object of the game is to find the cheapest, cheesiest, tackiest, or most bizarre item in the building.  Ah, now it's not simply wandering in an addle-pated way down the aisles.  NOW, this is a competition, and there is a goal.  NOW, I can embrace the flea market.

And so this is now I began my Sunday.

Despite this being a very small market, we were blessed with several excellent contenders for the WTF award.  Can you guess what won?

Really, can you have too many pairs of yellow platform shoes?

Book entry #1:  I think Luck and Pluck are pedophiles

The Bobbsey Twins meet Ahmed the Slave Trader

I don't even know what to say about this one...except, if you have you use the word "zany" in the description, it probably isn't...
I left this one larger because it won the "No, really; we meant it to look like that" award.  For the Venetian glass clown

What flea market is complete without a Velvet Elvis painting?

She wishes everyone would stop looking at her boobs

This was my pick for winner.  It's a touch lamp.  With a painting of native American children about to be attacked by a demented angel.  How would you like to roll over in the morning and see THAT next to your bed???
 The picture I wanted to get, but couldn't without being rude, was the mobile made of empty Coors Light beer cans, labeled "Redneck Wind Chimes"  Unfortunately, it was not eligible to win, as it was not actually for sale.

I think that, with this game in mind, I may actually survive three or four markets a year.  So stay tuned.

2 comments:

Elegant_Phoenix said...

I have to laugh. My dad loved to go to Jamie's Flea Market when we were kids. Every once and a while I feel myself get all nostalgic about it. I can remember the smells, the same food vendors we would hit up every time, the way the light felt in each of the buildings, the nasty carpet, ratty ceilings and nutso vendors.

From Jamie's we purchased two gunea pigs, several rabbits, a ferret and countless bits of someone else's junk. My brother would always get car sick on the way home from eating cotton candy and circus peanuts. And I remember it fondly.

Debster said...

I really enjoy reading your blog, I am always happy when I see you have written something new, makes me feel like I am not far away from you. Thanks.