My parents and I visit the Marshalls Creek flea market about once every year. I think I’ve always hated going but just never had the heart to tell my mom. This year the locals seemed weirder than ever. Michael Jackson gear was in full effect. Many New Yorkers of the latin persuasion in clothes that were way too tight. Tweety Bird was by far the most represented Looney Tunes character for the thirteenth year in a row. The dealers are getting lazier and lazier each year: a majority of the wares were left in the box on the ground for you pick through. Not a funnel cake to be seen and the bonsai trees were droopy and dried up.
There were many things that should be sold not there: moderately dangerous fireworks, bongs and bowls, samurai swords, ninja swords, chinese stars, BB guns of all shapes, sizes, and apparently power, novena candles, razor blade refills for razors not even on the market anymore, all of the Faces of Death and Bum Fights DVDs, knock offs of everything from ball caps and perfumes to purses and Apple Bottoms jeans.
The minor treasures I picked up were: “Into Hot Air: Mounting Mount Everest” by Chris Elliott ($2.50), “The Life and Times of The Thunderbolt Kid” by Bill Bryson ($2.50) (both books new hardcover), a monkey shaped money clip ($2.00), and a cuban sandwich – hold the pickles ($4.00).
With some act of miraculous restraint my parents came home with only socks, a spatula, a Philly pretzel, and two PediPaws pet nail trimmers.
