Dropping your Gs at the Flea Market

I think one of the reasons I love David Sedaris so much is because my life has seemed to mirror his. We were both born into families with WASP-y mothers and European fathers, both our Uiversity Degrees are gathering a thick layer of dust on a seldom-used shelf, both of us have younger sisters who are also talented. But the one thing that I always feel good about is that both Sedaris and myself lived in relative normalcy till our parents moved us to a more (how shall I put this gently...) redneck town at an age when it's difficult to adjust to a new environment. I really hate thinking snobby thoughts, and I never pretend I'm better than anyone else, but I found it gently comforting when the hicks used to make fun of me every day at school and call me city kid. I always thought Good. Don't lump me in with you. Yes, keep pelting me with sneakers - I love it! Anything to remind me that I'm not one of your kind. Regardless of how much I tried to differentiate myself from all the yokels and hillbillies, I really did absorb some of their particularly repulsive habits. On a good day, I'm just plain old The Mayor; easily passing for someone who was born and raised no more than 10 minutes from the CN Tower. But on any given Saturday morning, if I'm within 10 feet of a dusty heap of crap marked Anything on this here blanket is $2 and I'm dropping all the Gs from my ings and casually throwing around Y'alls and Caints (can't).

In my Grandparent's area of Florida, there is a massive Flea Market called the Wagon Wheel. There's also the Mustang and the Red Barn, but my Papa is a Flea Market connoisseur, and has educated me on the Wagon Wheel's superiority over the others. I love Flea Markets; I purposely take in $20 with me so that I can haggle down the vendors. It's a fun challenge, and it makes me feel like I truly have an important part in my purchase. Also, I wasn't in the building 30 minutes before I asked someone "how much are y'alls sellin' this here purse fer?" Shudder! The only thing missing was a baby in my belly and a beer in my hand. Despite me turning into a full-blown, These Colors Don't Run, 'Merican, I managed to make it out alive. So let's take a look at some of the highs and lows, shall we?

Many times I have sat in my living room and thought You know...I don't have nearly enough prints of dead entertainers.

A few Christmasses back, I bought my cousin a vintage WWF glass from a Flea Market. I can't remember who was on it; maybe Mr. Wonderful or Macho Man Randy Savage. But the glass itself was gorgeous - the colours were lightly faded and the typography was so retro. Anyways, this guy was selling a bunch of gas-station glasses too, but I knew they would never make it home on the plane

This vendor was selling body jewelry and piercing stuff. Okay, let me set one thing straight. I have performed my own at-home surgery, I have taken grossly-expired medication, I have eaten food that I have known to be completely spoiled. But I would never, NEVER, get piercing done by someone who purchases their supplies at the Wagon Wheel Flea Market. The picture above shows a sampling of rings (Bellybutton? Penis?) along with Cinderella and her Fairy Godmother. What these two have in common, I'll never know. Although they did have this image next to it, which would explain the level of eye-rolling we're dealing with:
Yep. That says Pierced Pussy. And you thought I was raised in the garbage! These guys made me look like Church.

Who would own this? Oh yeah, Wops. Can someone explain to me who is in this poster? I get Goodfellas on the upper-right, and The Sopranos in the middle. Scarface has us covered from top to bottom. But who are the rest? It isn't The Godfather, so I dunno. Ugh, none of this makes sense.

Fake COACH bags are a big deal down here, which is so bizarre because the real ones are often just $50 more and don't look like they were sewn by Ray Charles (Yes. I'm alluding to the fact that the quality of the goods are on par with those crafted by a blind corpse). There is a word for me: Class Act.

DALE! Where Mexicans hang pictures of Christ in their homes, Rednecks hang pictures of #8 himself, Dale Earnhardt.

Do you wonder why you don't see any Jack LaLaine juicers on this rug? THAT IS BECAUSE JACK LALAINE MAKES A QUALITY PRODUCT! Don't believe me - watch his infomercials and see for yourself.

I bought this mug for several reasons. The first being it was a steal at $2; everybody loves a deal, am I right or am I right? The second is that this mug was made by Fire King, which any bakers out there know means that this thing will survive Hiroshima and still look brand-new. The third is: how charming is that sun?? I want to drink coffee out of him every morning!

This painting seemed like something my sister would buy. I couldn't take it on the plane with me, so this is the best I can do.

I did buy these little pretties, though. They're porcelain and you hang them on the wall, and there's a spot in the top where you can put fake or real flowers (like a wall vase). They were $5 and I asked the guy to go down to $3. He said no. I don't blame him, I got greedy. I should have led-in with a solid $4. I bought them anyways.

Dear 8lb 6oz newborn Baby Jesus - will you please kill this phrase already?

An alligator urinating on a Native American.
You stay classy, Florida :(

I tried so hard to take a picture of this woman's miraculous hair, but she kept swinging her head around. Pfft, typical meth jitters. But I love the look on her son's face behind her; it's like he's going "Lookee Ma! Thut girl's got a cay'mrah!"

It's George Michael Bluth as Juno's boyfriend as a cow.


This one's for Tina T. Ironically enough, they weren't playing ICP in the car (it was Rob Zombie).


ty said...

can we somehow petition the canadian government for a bursary to keep you in Florida as a cultural reporter? I'll ship down all the steamwhistle if I can keep reading about 'mericans and their trinkets of all that is wrong with capitalism

fester said...

It looked like that that redneck was gonna punch you out for taking a photo of his momma..........
What part of " europe " did your father come from... is he first generation Canadian........do you talk with an accent too?

The Mayor said...

Ahahahaha!!! I was talking about this with my roomate last night. I mentioned that I was Polish, and we have a mutual friend who is from Poland and didn't come to Canada till she was 8. And she goes "oh, like Marlena!" and I'm like "yeah, no. Not at all like Marlena. Marlena is Polish. I'm Fast-Food Polish. I'm to Poland what Taco Bell is to Mexico."

I just claim a vague sense of identity.

Anonymous said...

How were those guys anything BUT the cast of The Godfather?! It only won two "Best Picture" Oscars...

Katie said...

i have that coffee mug!! lol