It wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror. Not even a two way mirror. But it was a different perspective. More like trading places I think. This was another yard sale weekend, but instead of being the buyer, shrewd and sophisticated, I was the seller. Still shrewd and sophisticated, but this time much more at the mercy of the buyer. Yikes!
It was a vendor’s yard sale at Hodge Podge. Those of us with a venue in the mall were going to have our own yard sale. We could sell the junk, I mean treasures, from our homes, or the stuff from the shop we wanted to get rid of. I got there an hour before the start of the sale, grabbed a table and began to set up. It wasn’t long before there were a number of shoppers poking around.
It was hard for me to understand why these buyers hadn’t purchased all of my wares within he first fifteen minutes of the sale. I like my stuff. Some I love. Why doesn’t everyone? But there were sales here and there. Some of my best customers were actually other vendors. I wonder if I’ll see these things appearing in other booths in the mall? One item has shown up already, transformed slightly to fit the new owners needs. Looks great by the way!
The sun was shining, it was warm and I felt good. I was happy talking to people about the items I had, and listening to their stories about how their mother had one of those. At one point I looked up into the sky and saw five parachutes, with their skydivers attached, floating to the ground. That is something that is both exhilarating and peaceful. Personal experience.
Most people think I did my skydiving in the military. And I let them think that if they want. But it was really done as a crazy college kid. Don’t tell my mom! First jump at dusk. After watching the instructor land on a barn roof because his chute didn’t open and he had to use the emergency silk. I fell from the plane and screamed something unrepeatable in polite company. After the initial terror the chute opened and it was pretty cool. Floating. Quiet, except for the wind.
And then the gliders flew over, behind their tow planes. Up, up, up and then cut loose, to soar like eagles on the winds. That’s something I’d like to try. That may even be closer to being a bird than riding my motorcycle. My wife was afraid it would crash, but I explained that worst case it would glide to the ground and land with a gentle thud. But not crash.
All of these things, the skydiving, the gliding, the motorcycle and yes, the yard sales and antiques give me a feeling of freedom. Doing what I love. Being with like-minded people.
In the past I’ve joined clubs of one sort or another only to find that for whatever reason I was still an outsider. But this day I felt good because I realized that I was part of a group. I knew the vendors. They knew me. I was accepted, even appreciated! They liked my stuff. It was when one shop owner said to me, “because it’s you, I’ll make you a special deal and let you have that for $$$.” I was a dealer, getting a dealer discount.
Sometimes it takes a while to figure out where we belong. Where we fit in. And after going round and round I find myself near the place I wanted to be many years ago. Took a long detour, but I’m glad to finally be here! That’s part of my story. What’s yours? www.personalhistorywriter.com