More About the Weekend

As I was saying, Father's Day this year was about as perfect as a day can get. Actually, Father's Day started the day before, when I picked Rachael and her boyfriend up in the Berkshires. Although it was a quiet ride out, it was pretty entertaining on the ride back, what with Rachael and Brian bringing me up to date on the events over the last few weeks. My own private performance.

Trapped on the scenic Mass Pike. Sadly, no cannibalism to report.

Even the traffic coming to a dead stop was kind of fun. It wasn't like I was in a hurry to get home and it gave me a chance to hear even more stories... along with the added bonus of the three of us ranking on the other drivers. (A side note to Brian (who I know follows this blog religiously): don't give your language a second thought. I didn't. I was too busy being "impressed" by Rachael's vocabulary.)

Once the traffic finally started moving again, we dropped Brian at the mall to get his car. Rachael and I used the opportunity to take a quick look inside the mall to try to find me a pair of gym shorts. No luck. Who would have thought that finding heavy cotton gym shorts for an overweight guy in his fifties would be so hard?

We left the mall empty handed and continued on home. By the time we got back, it was closing in on 9 PM. If this were a weeknight, I would be getting ready for bed. But since this was Saturday, I had another whole hour to go. Plenty of time for me to fill the air mattress for Helaina's boyfriend, get caught up with them, and to try to stay awake.

Before I finally turned in (at almost 11 o'clock!!!), plans were made for for the next day, Father's Day. It was decided that we were going to go to the flea market. I was slightly skeptical based on my last experience, but the thought of being with everyone made it no contest.

So, Sunday came, way too early as it turns out. I apparently turned my alarm on during the night which woke me up at my usual 5 AM. After tossing and turning for a while, I finally got up at a more reasonable seven o'clock. I went downstairs to make pancakes for everyone and once I got nearly done, I had Sam roust them out of bed. That way, they could eat and we could get an early start. My hope was to minimize the chances of not finding a bargain, which is only possible if you leave before the more rational people that tend to foolishly linger in bed on their days off.

With some prodding, everyone finished up eating and off we went. As I drove down the highway and looked in the rear view mirror, I felt like I was transporting a crew of bobble-heads. The few eyes that were open looked pretty bleary.

We made it the flea market in good time, in what was a pretty quiet ride. But getting the early start really paid off... for me, at least.

Some people will buy sell anything.

Walking around can be a big part of the fun, but you have to be in the right frame of mind. Finding a bargain makes it even better. Sure, some treasures had to be passed up, but something tells me they'll be there for the picking some other day... even if that "other day" is five or six years from now.

The fine art of the "hard sell".

 Rachael and I came upon this guy(?). I'm not sure what the story is here. Either he just found a jacket that he is way too in love with, or a customer slipped out of his grip, throwing him backwards into the conveniently placed chair. Or, he has totally given up and is feigning being dead in hopes that everyone steals his stuff and he no longer has to drag it all home. Nice try buddy. Other than maybe your wallet, I'm not interested.

I came across someone selling baggies filled with shells. These were not the exotic, colorful shells you might buy in a store or find if you were foolish enough to go scuba diving in the tropics. These were the kind of shells that someone like me would pick up while walking along the beach. Somehow, they look a lot more attractive to me when they're scattered in the sand, waves brushing against my feet, sand pipers wisely avoiding me. Stuck in these baggies, it struck me as kind of sad. Are these people selling their vacation memories? Even sadder, they're only asking fifty cents a bag. Left behind in a divorce settlement maybe?

Nothing was screaming, "Buy me". Quite the opposite. I spent a  lot of time half-looking at things, nothing jumped out. Just when I thought the trip was going to be a bust "spending all of my money"-wise, I came upon the buck-a-book man. I remember this guy from our flea market adventures twenty years ago. Unlike some of these other vendors, it looked like he got some new inventory in those twenty years. It took a little digging but I came away with fifteen cookbooks. I passed on a few of the other, more complicated looking cookbooks. I don't need the hassle. I also passed on: "The Vagina, An Owner's Manual" (honest!). Not sure why this was in with the other books and I wasn't about to ask.

If you look close, it looks like he's smiling!

I headed back to the van with most of the other crew, fighting the urge to revisit one of the treasures I didn't buy into earlier. Fighting, but not fighting hard enough. I  went back to another table to buy an old juicer that I passed on before. For some odd reason, no one scooped this baby up. Sure, it was missing one of it's four feet, and from the looks of the two "Darrels" selling it, it may have been used for something other than squeezing fruit. Another case of "better not to ask". I figured I better grab it since it wasn't likely I would be finding another one.

Convinced I bought all the bargains to be had, we all met back at the van-  me with my fifteen cookbooks and juicer, everyone else with their "treasures". With one final stop at the spice store, we went home.

After getting settled at home, I made pretzels and Helaina brought her boyfriend home, getting back in time for me to open my Father's Day presents. Yes, even after the cookbooks, juicer, and spices, there was more to come!

Every year, I think it can't get any better and every year, it does.

Sam gave me a tee shirt that he silk screened at school. It's beautiful and I don't want to wear it because I'll ruin it. I'll have to find someplace safe where I can take it out from time to time to look at his thoughtfulness.

Jake treated me to a movie, not realizing that I would have paid him for the couple of hours we spent together, no matter what we did. Seeing the movie was a bonus.

Rachael gave me a hand carved totem that has three small faces on it. They are looking serenely down on me as I type this. She said it protects and keeps people safe. I see myself in one of the faces, and I see her, both as a little girl and as a young woman in the other two.

And Helaina bought me copies of two comic books from my long ago youth; comics that I wrote about here. When I opened them, I was instantly transported back more than forty years. I think I was even happier that she is one of the few people that bothers to read the drivel I put down here. Like Sam's shirt, I will have to find a safe place to keep them.

Their thoughtfulness was, and is, overwhelming. Each one is perfect. Each present is perfect too.

With all of this, I could have done without the juicer, cook books and spices. Heck, I don't even miss the gym shorts.