“I feel like there should be a border crossing to get here”
I find fewer places in this world stranger than flea markets.
They are certainly at the midpoint, if not the lower end, of the consumerism digestive tract. Sure, there might be a few nutritional treasures that can be incredibly rewarding but you have to sort through a sea of shit in order to find those. The other week, a few friends and I tapewormed our way through the St. Johns Flea Market.
For me, trips like this start out as joyously amusing (look at all this STUFF!) and turn to mildly depressive exhaustion pretty quickly(look. at. all. this. stuff.). Walmart purchases decidedly do not age gracefully.
An entire booth dedicated to miscellaneous wires and cables.
Moldy roller blades.
A tickle me elmo.
When he first came onto the scene, mothers and fathers fought over him in the store aisles. And now here is elmo, untickled. He’s sitting with a posse of beanie babies, tags still attached, on a particle board table being bleached by the sun.
What things are we creating and hoarding at present that we will see the absurdity in later on a future flea market excursion? All of these silly plastic trinkets provide such fleeting joy. I’m glad that they stop over at the flea market for us to pick over once more before officially being declared trash and taken away to make fake hills or fill pits.
That isn’t to say all one will find in a flea market is a cheap plastic hangover. In fact, some people are able to comb through and completely reap without being disturbed in the least. I salute them.
Jacob is an excellent and enterprising finder of treasure. He got this fishing pole for $15 and sold it to a guy passing by for $20
Here are a few images and things that gave me some of that fleeting joy:
A mirror with an inuit spearing a seal on it! $3
Friends know when to give hugs
Lauren at the exit. In case you can't see, the boy in the background with the untied shoes and adidas track pants is reading a brochure on satellite tv. It's important to be informed before making such a purchase.
Cultural excursions
I find fewer places in this world stranger than flea markets.
They are certainly at the midpoint, if not the lower end, of the consumerism digestive tract. Sure, there might be a few nutritional treasures that can be incredibly rewarding but you have to sort through a sea of shit in order to find those. The other week, a few friends and I tapewormed our way through the St. Johns Flea Market.
For me, trips like this start out as joyously amusing (look at all this STUFF!) and turn to mildly depressive exhaustion pretty quickly(look. at. all. this. stuff.). Walmart purchases decidedly do not age gracefully.
An entire booth dedicated to miscellaneous wires and cables.
Moldy roller blades.
A tickle me elmo.
When he first came onto the scene, mothers and fathers fought over him in the store aisles. And now here is elmo, untickled. He’s sitting with a posse of beanie babies, tags still attached, on a particle board table being bleached by the sun.
What things are we creating and hoarding at present that we will see the absurdity in later on a future flea market excursion? All of these silly plastic trinkets provide such fleeting joy. I’m glad that they stop over at the flea market for us to pick over once more before officially being declared trash and taken away to make fake hills or fill pits.
That isn’t to say all one will find in a flea market is a cheap plastic hangover. In fact, some people are able to comb through and completely reap without being disturbed in the least. I salute them.
Jacob is an excellent and enterprising finder of treasure. He got this fishing pole for $15 and sold it to a guy passing by for $20
Here are a few images and things that gave me some of that fleeting joy:
A mirror with an inuit spearing a seal on it! $3
Friends know when to give hugs
Lauren at the exit. In case you can't see, the boy in the background with the untied shoes and adidas track pants is reading a brochure on satellite tv. It's important to be informed before making such a purchase.