Flea Market Finds 10[7-11-14]12

The following is a collection of cheery things I've gathered the past Sunday-Thursday-Sunday at the Capitol Flea Market. Here we go . . .

The Haul

Well on! Another cane to join the other two. This one is collapsible and is
all prepped and ready to go with hairbands on the handle for just in case.

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A fine find whose brilliance include "Even men of the same age
and the same country do not always speak the same language."

Because Lord knows I need it, as socially retarded as I am. So how do you say hello?

                                                          

                                                                            Whoa uh oh it's them ladies again! The tough! The wise! And the pretty!

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From my absolute favorite television show Red Dwarf: The totally Cat-Opposite Duane Dibbley! It was a surprise to see him on a table of scattered randoms. That bowl cut and overbite I can not miss! Those who passed him thought he was Moe Howard. But Moe was a Stooge and Duane is a Geek.

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Mark Johnson is a cool cat. Met him last year at a previous hunt where he chimed on in a bunch of fascinating stuff. It was great to see him again here this past Thursday. Such is his easygoing talk and so genuine are his interests that you can't help but go, "Duuude. That's cool!" The monster movies are just one aspect, if you like those you'll likely find other topics with which to share and entertain. He had a jazz station tuned on the radio up there. Said definitely check out J-Men Forever because I'm a MSTie. And he does drawings! I ended up picking up a print of Commander Cody here . . .

because honestly no gangsta could ever reasonably act hard towards a man with a sweet ray gun, a dong for a helmet and baggy zoot suit slacks, playa. THIS is Gangsta -- Rocket Man Space Gangsta!

Take a closer look at his art print sign:

Holy hell it's the Misfits font! Mark, you rule!!!!

(Dude and I probably shoulda picked up the Wild Woman advert.)

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Been thinking about getting a brooch, I have. And now I have. Got a compliment from
 a 40'ish woman seller who delighted in itself being a group of yellow flowers. "Why, thank you."

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To make up for the lack of companionship, there are images of women on my walls. This one here is quite welcome but I'm anxious about the possibility of that contact high. At least she kept the window open. "Thanks, dear." =P
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Children's books are good fun. An insight made "simple" is an insight nonetheless. You'll find depth if you look for it whether it be subjectively or philosophically. The Giving Tree on friendship over time. The Napping House on how crowded homes really are and the true rest one bed can provide. Curious George about how curiousity is a splendiforous fuel to live life even when ish hits the fan and The Man kidnaps your monkey ass from your comfy jungle.

And the children watched for the first robin to tell them Spring had really come. Yeah I talk to the birds too. Mostly advice on the hers. Occasionally how fine the weather is. One bird right out my window sounded Atari.

The postman put his rubbers away and took out his high boots. The farmer milked his cows in a barn filled with bright snow-light. "Put his rubbers away?" Pimp be the postman, high boots and all! As for the cow . . .

 Whoa, that cow is a suspectin'!  She's eyeballing that "farmer" like "Who the Fumuh-muh isth thisfuhhm?" [chewing on hay] Look, the cow is even trying to wag him away with her tail! I don't know dude, this might not even be a cow, yo. Milking, huh? Children's books are messed up sometimes, aye Weed Eggs & Ham?

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What to say but "indeed." There, a beauty in poetry. How a verse is capable of expressing more than a stadium of novels.



HER FACE AND BROW
Ah, help me! but her face and brow
Are lovelier than lilies are
Beneath the light of moon and star
That smile as they are smiling now --
White lilies in a pallid swoon
Of sweetest white beneath the moon --
White lilies, in a flood of bright
Pure lucidness of liquid light
Cascading down some plenilune,
When all the azure overhead
Blooms like a dazzling daisy-bed. --
So luminous her face and brow,
The luster of their glory, shed
In memory, even, blinds me now.

- James Whitcomb Riley


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The best for last: Santa. The new charge. The only shapely bodies that allow me to hold them with 
tender care and affection are my guitars. "Santa, let's go. We've got songs to discover."