Experiencing America

Mary and I saw America today.  We arose bright and early to attend the weekly Wednesday flea market at Volusia fairgrounds in sunny Florida – at least one hundred venders (entrepreneurs) attracting thousands of shoppers.

What a great day.

I was on the hunt for a few interesting items to display on the new shelves I built.  I purchased an exquisite primitive vase and an impressive hand-carved African wood sculpture.  I tried to negotiate a lower price for the sculpture and lost.  After walking away, I came back and paid his asking price.

Mary chatted with and was intrigued by the hunter selling his pelts.  An ermine was $500.

There were several produce stands.  We purchased collard greens and beets from a very funny and entertaining elderly farmer.  He said, “Some folks call me a dealer, 'cause once you eat my collards, you're addicted.”

We purchased kale, green tomatoes (Mary fries them), peppers, Brussels sprouts, and onions from another farmer.  He ended our exchange with “God bless you.”  I liked that.

A very well-spoken young black man was selling super honey from some kind of special bee.  I was only half-listening.  Mary purchased a jar.  I ran back and gave the young black businessman a high five.  “I love entrepreneurship.”  He smiled and said, “Thank you.  Yes, sir, that's what I am.”

Then there was the guy who had a framed poster that was perfect for a wall in my home.  I tried to talk him into reducing the price and failed.  A little later, I asked Mary to try, and she failed.  Eventually, I went back to the guy and paid his asking price.  I really love the poster.

Negotiating prices is a part of the flea market experience – kind of a friendly chess game.  Obviously, I am not very good at it.

I caught up with Mary sitting at a food truck's picnic table.  She was enjoying barbequed pulled pork on a white bun with a Pepsi.  She was in heaven.

It felt really good, participating as people worked to make an honest buck, selling their wares.  The air felt free, the way America should feel.

For a brief moment, I forgot about how the tyranny of the Obama regime is strangling the life out of our country – his IRS trying to criminalize Tea Party participation, Christian institutions commanded to provide abortion services against their faith, ObamaCare causing millions of Americans to lose their health care plans, armed troops sent to collect rancher Bundy's debt and Harry Reid threatening Bundy, saying, “It's not over!”

Clearly, the Fed's heavy-handed approach to dealing with rancher Bundy is the BLM's and Reid's attempt to send a message to all Americans that disobeying the Obama regime will not be tolerated.

My gosh, where is my America?  Well, I saw it today.  Free-market capitalism.  Buying.  Selling.  Freedom.  It felt great!

Before leaving the flea market, I purchased a coat rack, which I plan to re-purpose.  I paid the guy's asking price.  I have got to work on my negotiating skills.

Mary and I saw America today.  We arose bright and early to attend the weekly Wednesday flea market at Volusia fairgrounds in sunny Florida – at least one hundred venders (entrepreneurs) attracting thousands of shoppers.

What a great day.

I was on the hunt for a few interesting items to display on the new shelves I built.  I purchased an exquisite primitive vase and an impressive hand-carved African wood sculpture.  I tried to negotiate a lower price for the sculpture and lost.  After walking away, I came back and paid his asking price.

Mary chatted with and was intrigued by the hunter selling his pelts.  An ermine was $500.

There were several produce stands.  We purchased collard greens and beets from a very funny and entertaining elderly farmer.  He said, “Some folks call me a dealer, 'cause once you eat my collards, you're addicted.”

We purchased kale, green tomatoes (Mary fries them), peppers, Brussels sprouts, and onions from another farmer.  He ended our exchange with “God bless you.”  I liked that.

A very well-spoken young black man was selling super honey from some kind of special bee.  I was only half-listening.  Mary purchased a jar.  I ran back and gave the young black businessman a high five.  “I love entrepreneurship.”  He smiled and said, “Thank you.  Yes, sir, that's what I am.”

Then there was the guy who had a framed poster that was perfect for a wall in my home.  I tried to talk him into reducing the price and failed.  A little later, I asked Mary to try, and she failed.  Eventually, I went back to the guy and paid his asking price.  I really love the poster.

Negotiating prices is a part of the flea market experience – kind of a friendly chess game.  Obviously, I am not very good at it.

I caught up with Mary sitting at a food truck's picnic table.  She was enjoying barbequed pulled pork on a white bun with a Pepsi.  She was in heaven.

It felt really good, participating as people worked to make an honest buck, selling their wares.  The air felt free, the way America should feel.

For a brief moment, I forgot about how the tyranny of the Obama regime is strangling the life out of our country – his IRS trying to criminalize Tea Party participation, Christian institutions commanded to provide abortion services against their faith, ObamaCare causing millions of Americans to lose their health care plans, armed troops sent to collect rancher Bundy's debt and Harry Reid threatening Bundy, saying, “It's not over!”

Clearly, the Fed's heavy-handed approach to dealing with rancher Bundy is the BLM's and Reid's attempt to send a message to all Americans that disobeying the Obama regime will not be tolerated.

My gosh, where is my America?  Well, I saw it today.  Free-market capitalism.  Buying.  Selling.  Freedom.  It felt great!

Before leaving the flea market, I purchased a coat rack, which I plan to re-purpose.  I paid the guy's asking price.  I have got to work on my negotiating skills.

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