Thursday, February 05, 2009


First time I ever went to a swap meet was somewhere in Post Falls, Idaho. Bought a bunch of super cool junk that I didn't need or couldn't afford. I was struggling through a divorce at the time and that swap meet was the perfect tonic for a lonely Saturday afternoon without my kids. Things and times change and the next swap meet I went to, years later, was at Aloha Stadium in Honolulu. Had to be the daddy of all swap meets. This time I was with both kids and the new kid and his own daddy and we bummed around that place all day, fingering each and every pair of $10 Nike runners and searching for that one elusive vendor that would give us 12 tee shirts for $6. God, what a day.
Wandered into the market at Kona today--they've gone back to the old school name, market. But by any name, it brought back a lot of sweet memories. The fierce feather face coconut hangie things were there. Piles and piles of flip flops and Crocs. Potholders, pineapples and pukkas. Wooden ceremonial masks, wooden Harley Davidsons, wooden bowls. And unique to the market in Hawai'i, beautiful flowers, intriguing fruit and exotic innovations in leis.

I think in my heart, like my immigrant grandparents, I am a shopkeeper. Wares carefully hung up and laid out for sale touch me in a place that's practically indescribable. Each and every table and booth of even a swap meet, MARKET, speaks to me in some manner and behooves me to respond with respect and appreciation. And I can know a people and an area by what they are selling and how they sell it. I can tell you in a about three glances, how over or under inventoried you are; how comparable your pricing is, what profits your pricing will yield given your inventory strategy. How do I know this? Because I am one hell of a shopper and an even better accountant. I have experience deep and wide in just this: shops and shopping.

But what sticks with me tonight is this: how come I have never had my own shop? Why have I never hung out my sign, only my shingle? Am I truly that monastic that I just watch, everything, and then write about it? Like Aquinas?

I don't know what this means, if anything. But the sun sets as the torches are lit for another inky night on the beach here in the Pacific and life, as one of my favorite buddies checked in today to report, is good.

JBelle
On Assignment
Waikoloa Beach, Hawai'i

3 comments:

MarmiteToasty said...

We call them carboot sales here I think, and we LOVE rummaging around them in the summer months, have also done a few in me time and they are such fun if you go with friends...... the summer before last I went with a car load of stuff, as did me matie Sharon and our maties Gly and Margie..... we all parked next to each other and we laffed and laffed, didnt sell much cos we was to busy rummaging around others stuff lol....

I did LOVE doing the craft fairs years ago with the stuff I had made, loved setting up my stall, also LOVED with a passion doing the country shows with our nursery when I had it, loved that more then life itself.... I miss that so much.... not him, just the shows LOL

Be safe and enjoy.....

x

JBelle said...

You can count on me. Only to take chances that will pay out and to enjoy. Just enjoy it all....

Carla said...

We don't always sell the tangible and it's not always for money. I love markets and those pictures...I love the one with the star fruit.