once a month there is a large antique fair just north of town. the term antique
is, in this case, applied very loosely. for every booth featuring estate sale jewelry or civil war memorabilia or entire sets of depression glass, there are five booths with alf trading cards and space shuttle patches and plastic tupperware boxes full of buttons and rusty pocketknives.
in short, it is exactly my kind of antique
fair. nice things to admire that i'll likely never be able to afford, surrounded by tons of kitschy shit for me to spend hours pawing at.
on sunday, i stopped at one wooden table and stood before a large ceramic/plaster thing--a stylized gold sunburst in the middle of which was a bust of jesus. for those who don't know, i like that sort of thing
. the face was a little bit scratched and dirty but, you know, i think a savior should look a little road-weary. it makes him more realistic.
i hefted the thing, turning it this way and that, looking for a little price tag. finding none, i brought it to an oafish man who sat on and over and around a chair twenty-feet away. he was selling everything under the tent. there was my jesus but also can openers and army metals and serving platters with bridges painted on them.
i said, how much?
he said, i'll give it to you for twelve.
i would have easily paid twenty bucks. it was a pretty substantial-looking thing, like a real-live church went out of business and everything must go!
as i was digging my money out, thinking things couldn't get any better, he said, it's twelve dollars for the set. mary's over on the end of that table.
i was so happy.
i also left with twenty black and white photographs, most taken in the 1940s, members of an unfortunate-looking family at home and on vacation in florida.
the other cool thing i found (but did not shell out $100 for) was a 1950s poster from a tammy wynette/george jones concert here in charlotte.
maybe next month, i can talk him down to fifty. last seen
: coal miner's daughter
, sexy beast, the spaghetti westlast heard
: scout niblett 'safety pants'last read
: My other option is to move into a high rise downtown this summer when my lease is up and trick that shit out to look Doris Day's apartment in Pillow Talk.bonus
: Since I was a kid I've always been a little over sensitive to the glorification and rewarding of dumb.