Flea markets

I was at the Alameda Antique Faire today. Make no mistake about it, this is a flea market, and a vary large one. I was reminded of nothing so much as my father. He loved these places. He spent a lot of time at them, on both sides of the booth – usually as a seller, but also as a customer, always on the lookout for something he could flip.

So it’s strange to realize that I’ve been thinking recently that a great way to purge myself of a decade or so of accumulated junk would be to set up at a flea market for an afternoon! It would be so easy just to set this stuff out on the curb, or take it to Goodwill or another charity. But I know that there’s a little bit of my father in me when I just can’t bring myself to do that, knowing that there is a couple hundred dollars to be made, three and five dollars at a time, amongst all this… stuff. Plus ├ža change…

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