Chapter 17 - Mt. Dora Art Fair vs. Renningers Flea Market

While I sat behind the big wood tables at the Renninger's Flea Market one of the biggest art fairs, excuse me ART FAIRS, in the country was happening a mile or less away. I was careful not to set up too "creatively" per our new strategy (ie that the shlubs will just walk past anything that does not exude cheap)but I could not resist tilting the wide heavy table forward with some of the bricks we use in our display and then I had to put down the black tablecloth and why not just go up one tier with bricks and our orange crackle painted wood shelves and before you could say "dat's diffarent"I had a really cewl display. I did not expect anything since it was raining like you would imagine inspired Stevie Ray Vaughn to write some of his best songs, I mean pounding rain, loud with wind attached. The tin longhouse style roof resounding.

Made about 45 bucks and the people were very nice, got some hearty, sincere compliments to which I responded equally heartily, if not as sincere, since most of the compliments were aimed at J's stuff, and the day was a good one. We also had some time apart which was nice for both of us. J ran errands to the hardware store and I made the beginnings of a necklace since I will be taking over the offline selling and marketing while J will be entering our stuff on Ruby Lane and Ebay. That means I have to fill a booth with all my stuff. I was eager. She was skeptical. I told her it would be no problem. She pointed out to me that very little of what was in the booth was done by me and that it took me forever to make something because I never had a plan and just liked to play all the time. I pointed out right back that that was because I did all the driving and the loading and unloading and dog taking care of while she had all the time in the world to make jewelry and believe me it was not play what I had to do. Soon we were again lost in argument, butting heads and pulling in opposite directions. When she left I set out to prove her wrong. I had all the bead boxes and tools with me. The wire and the time, sitting there while all the shlubs (at least they were nice shlubs here) walked past and stared at our stuff thinking perhaps, "that ain't old or used or made by a machine..." I set to it. I needed to fill a booth dammit. By the time she got back at 3:00 I had a third of a very interesting looking necklace going...It didn't look good.

We managed to get out of there before 4:00 and were able to get to the ART FAIR without paying one of the many wealthy homeowners up and down the blocks holding signs that advertised parking for five dollars. It was a far better showing of talent that either of us had anticipated. There were some honest to goodness painters there, along with the shlub painters with their sailboats and coconut trees and photos that had been touched up to look like paintings. Also there was some real art jewelry and we saw for the first time the bar. We are close. Looking for booth designs also we realized it will not take much more than imagination to put a knock out one together.

You can't know unless you have done this for more than two months in a row what an intense strain on the system it is. In a way it is wonderful. If you are making a good living and have a big enough vehicle, not too big though since they know well how to Roger the shit out of what they deem tourists. From the RV parks to the turnpikes to the pumps the RVers feel the tentacles reaching out, trying to connect like some giant merchant lampry sucking greenbacks out of their precious piles.

Our pile is a hole.