Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Chapter 13 - Blistering Foot Rot/Dean Martin Swings

I must get a new pair of shoes or sandals or something soon. Mine rotting apart. Once white Nikes that defied gravity now ripped at the seams, filthy grey and feel like they've been dipped in french fry grease. My feet squirm to kick them off while Dean Martin croons Volare above my head -- at the decent Starbucks on Sunrise. But I am inside tonight and have not showered in over a week so it would be criminal to do so. I did get to wash up today though at the Swap Shop. Shaved, shampooed, brushed my teeth, washed my groin area and underarms and sanctified the latter with deodorant. The problem was there was no paper towel in the stall, just air so I pulled down a bunch of toilet paper and wiped the flooded floor with it using my insane tennis shoes. The old soft shoe.

We made a little today, about 20 bucks. A lady came up and asked how much the small decorated dessert serving sets were and I told her four bucks apiece since so many people seem to want to break up the sets lately and buy just one fork or spoon or pie server. four, eight, twelve right? No, she picked out two sets of three and handed me eight bucks. I did not correct her. Just took the desperately needed money and wrapped the damn things up.

An Italian guy bought an old power strip I found under the seat of the van.
Another person bought a small flashlight. Not much but we felt good today, a mostly sunny day with big scudders and some breezes that made the hot sun comfortable...I find I am really looking forward to this blog every night and in a bold move last night I emailed the editor of New Times and asked him for a job, even suggested this blog as a column platform. The Florida Craft/Art Fair Circuit, Farmer's Market and Flea Market culture, seen through the eyes of an insider, living in his van. Why not?

Tonights repast of Wendy's was enjoyable. Chili, french frys and a Caesar salad. We discussed Diogenes "The Dog" Laertes for some reason. His quip to Alexander the Great when the erudite conqueror offered him anything he asked. "Stand out of my sun." What a guy. The world could use a few more of his kind...

On the way to the Wendy's we heard an author speak on NPR about a book he had written called "The Walmart Effect". Very interesting stuff. Walmart is targeted as the reason small shop owners are going under. J points out that it isn't only Walmart though, it's a lot of places but the yuppies like to target Walmart because they don't shop there...

Peaceful night. 25 bucks left. A whole new flea market day tomorrow. There is always a chance that one or two people who get us will stroll through. I will probably dream of a brand new pair of tennis shoes tonight. They will have wings on them, made of origami one hundred dollar bills and I will be able to jump flea market drive-in theater screens in them.

Meanwhile, back here in Starbucks, I smile at all the possibilities with my brave and beautiful wife reading in the big chair in front of me, a look of interest on her face, the exquisite handmade purple pearl earrings she made a few days ago dangling, almost as if, if I blur focus out the other people sitting around the place, we were relaxing in our own home.

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