I pulled the latest Soap Opera Digest out of the mailbox last week to find the news that Days of Our Lives has let another popular veteran couple go. This time it's Steve and Kayla, played by Stephen Nichols and Mary Beth Evans. Adding insult to injury, instead of a send-off into the sunset of happy soap-couple land, the characters are going to simply stop appearing. In fact, their last scenes have already aired.
I can only imagine the outrage on the soap internet over this. (I have to imagine it, as going to soap sites and boards scares me even more than going to the comics internet. Some of those people are looney!) But as far as I'm concerned, it's not a bad move.
Most soaps have spent the last couple of years bringing back favorite characters from the past in desperate attempts to boost ratings. It's a problematic approach. For one thing, it's not cheap, and most shows are pretty cash-strapped these days. For another, once you bring someone back, you need to write for them and use them. Unfortunately, most shows only have the idea for the initial story to bring the characters back (and usually it's a 'big event' kind of thing), but very little idea how to fit them into the existing canvas afterward, resulting in very expensive supporting characters and fans who feel like they've been deceived by the promise of old characters who rarely appear.
As far as I'm concerned, bringing back Steve and Kayla a couple of years ago was an ill-advised move made during James Reilly's last disastrous turn as head writer. As the ratings continued to plummet, the show started going crazy bringing back old faves, only to sideline them in some of the lamest stories, doing nothing but rehashing things they did on their original runs.
Look! Frankie Brady's back! What's he doing? Well, he's kind of trapped in a really dumb story that's trying to recreate his teenage love story with Jennifer Horton! Oh, and there's Carrie and Austin! Doing what? Recreating their endless romantic rivalry with Lucas and Sami. Yay! Just what we wanted to see! And so on and so forth.
Even though Steve and Kayla's recent run was mostly handled by other writers, thus avoiding the Reilley re-run run around, it pretty quickly became obvious that no one knew what to do with them. Once Steve the mind-controlled killer suddenly became Steve the loving husband again, there went their story. Everything else fell way flat. Kayla preggers? Please! At her age? Ava, the mobster moll from Steve's amnesiac past? Yeesh!
Where they seemed to work best was as supporting characters--parents to Stephanie, siblings and friends to Bo and Hope. I do think the show will be poorer for cutting out yet another bit of connective tissue that binds the families together, but these are characters with too much history and too much potential to be reduced to that role alone. It's better that Days cut its losses and move on.
According to SOD, Executive Producer Ted Corday has said that the cast-cutting is over. The show is now in its lean, mean fighting shape for its fight for survival on NBC. I'm not sure that Days really has a fighting chance here. NBC over the past decade or so has demonstrated that it is more than willing to give soaps the ax, even shows with 40+ year histories like Days. And fan confidence in the show is pretty low right now, largely due to the firings of Deidre Hall and Drake Hogestyn. For too many people, John and Marlena are Days of Our Lives, and those people are pretty pissed off right now. All in all, it's going to be an uphill battle.
NEXT: Some thoughts about what the show needs to do now.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Cashing In
Roger's post last week about Johnny Cash reminded me that I had been saving up some Cash videos in my drafts waiting for a chance to turn them into a post or two. Reading his reflections brought to mind a few of my own and finally prompted me to put my own Cash post together.
(You can call it riding Roger's coat tails or copying his inspiration, If you insist. Me, I call it synergy!)
Cash was pretty much a standard musical presence in my house, it seems. My mother was always particularly fond of Southern and bluegrass gospel tunes. I have a lot of memories of her singing with the radio or by herself, especially when she was doing the dishes.
One that she sang quite often was "Daddy Sang Bass," usually the chorus. When I was about five years old or so, or so the story goes, I hit the age where I was too old for the nursery at church. They didn't have children's church at that time, so I had to go to "big church" to sit with my mother and grandparents. Knowing my mother, I'm sure that I must have gotten manylectures reminders about the importance of sitting quietly in church and behaving and all that. Knowing my grandmother, she probably had a purse full of mints to keep me quiet.
So, the first Sunday in "big church" comes around, we're all assembled. In good Baptist fashion, the first hymn is announced. Everyone stands. My mother helps me to find the right page, so I can be like the adults. And everyone starts to sing.
Now at this point, I'm an early reader at best. Mastery of the hymnal with it's strange layouts and musical notes is probably beyond me. Not too mention the fact that I'm not familiar with the music in "big church." Nonetheless, Mom notices that I seem to be singing along with everyone else.
Curious, she leans down to hear what I'm actually singing:
That was the Statler Brothers and the Carter Family singing along with him, in case you didn't know.
When I was in middle school, I had to have surgery. It had to be rescheduled a couple of times because I kept getting sick right beforehand. My dad was stationed in Germany at the time, but we were living in Kentucky. When the surgery finally happened, he came home for a couple of weeks on leave. He brought my a stack of 8-tracks (God, I am old) to listen to while I was in recovery. The two that I remember most were greatest hits collections--Beach Boys and Johnny Cash. I played both of them over and over and over.
Both of these next two songs were on the Cash tape. I've always loved both of them because they showcase his sense of humor, an attribute that I think gets overlooked a lot of times when people are discussing his life. I do have to admit, though, that I really didn't "get" the second one until I grew up and started voting. When I was a kid, I thought the line about the Methodist was pretty funny.
I'm not sure whether either of them truly qualifies as a "hit" per se, but they were a part of that particular tape. Until the internet came along, however, I couldn't get Keith to believe in the existence of either song! They're just not what people think of then they think of Johnny Cash, but they're among my favorite Cash tunes.
Another much disputed song in my house is this one. For years Keith tried to tell me that I was getting confused about the old Kenny Rogers song "Ruby (Don't Take Your Love to Town)." As if!
(You can call it riding Roger's coat tails or copying his inspiration, If you insist. Me, I call it synergy!)
Cash was pretty much a standard musical presence in my house, it seems. My mother was always particularly fond of Southern and bluegrass gospel tunes. I have a lot of memories of her singing with the radio or by herself, especially when she was doing the dishes.
One that she sang quite often was "Daddy Sang Bass," usually the chorus. When I was about five years old or so, or so the story goes, I hit the age where I was too old for the nursery at church. They didn't have children's church at that time, so I had to go to "big church" to sit with my mother and grandparents. Knowing my mother, I'm sure that I must have gotten many
So, the first Sunday in "big church" comes around, we're all assembled. In good Baptist fashion, the first hymn is announced. Everyone stands. My mother helps me to find the right page, so I can be like the adults. And everyone starts to sing.
Now at this point, I'm an early reader at best. Mastery of the hymnal with it's strange layouts and musical notes is probably beyond me. Not too mention the fact that I'm not familiar with the music in "big church." Nonetheless, Mom notices that I seem to be singing along with everyone else.
Curious, she leans down to hear what I'm actually singing:
Daddy sang Bass
Mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
At which point, she says she had to sit down to keep from laughing loud enough to distract everyone else.
Mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
At which point, she says she had to sit down to keep from laughing loud enough to distract everyone else.
That was the Statler Brothers and the Carter Family singing along with him, in case you didn't know.
When I was in middle school, I had to have surgery. It had to be rescheduled a couple of times because I kept getting sick right beforehand. My dad was stationed in Germany at the time, but we were living in Kentucky. When the surgery finally happened, he came home for a couple of weeks on leave. He brought my a stack of 8-tracks (God, I am old) to listen to while I was in recovery. The two that I remember most were greatest hits collections--Beach Boys and Johnny Cash. I played both of them over and over and over.
Both of these next two songs were on the Cash tape. I've always loved both of them because they showcase his sense of humor, an attribute that I think gets overlooked a lot of times when people are discussing his life. I do have to admit, though, that I really didn't "get" the second one until I grew up and started voting. When I was a kid, I thought the line about the Methodist was pretty funny.
I'm not sure whether either of them truly qualifies as a "hit" per se, but they were a part of that particular tape. Until the internet came along, however, I couldn't get Keith to believe in the existence of either song! They're just not what people think of then they think of Johnny Cash, but they're among my favorite Cash tunes.
Another much disputed song in my house is this one. For years Keith tried to tell me that I was getting confused about the old Kenny Rogers song "Ruby (Don't Take Your Love to Town)." As if!
Sunday, February 01, 2009
January is the cruelest month...
Actually, the quote is “April is the cruelest month,” but, for me, as far as 2009 is concerned, April is going to have a long way to go to make up for January. I’ve been sick twice, for several days at a time, which stole large chunks of the month away from me. Plus, for the past several days, we’ve been exiled to a hotel due to a power outage caused by winter storms. And now, the month is over and I’ve not been able to do half of what I planned on doing, including that the weekend trip that the aforementioned storms scuttled. So you can see I’m not that enamored with the month at this moment. Oh well.
The whole storm thing has been fascinating in many ways, annoying in some ways, and terrifying in others. The weather started getting bad last Sunday and Monday, with the first snowfall. By Tuesday, we had graduated through snow and sleet to full-fledged ice storms. Wednesday, we awoke, along with much of the city and a good part of the state, to no power.
Keith went to work, but I decided against showering in a freezing house. We called the vet as soon as they opened to see about boarding the cats. Luckily the vet’s office did have power. Bennie is 16 and doesn’t handle the cold very well at all. We wanted to get her some place warm, if at all possible. They called back after ten and said they could take them. Keith didn’t even have the car dug out at this point.
He kept digging and I went on a hunt in the dark for the cages. I only found two, so the boys had to share, which normally causes problems, but they were so freaked out by the cold that they just went instantly still and quiet in the cage. Bennie was so freaked out by everything that she didn’t even run when the cage came out, which is her usual behavior. I was thankful for that. She’s fat. She’s old. But when she wants to get away from the cage, she’s fast. Running after her through the dark house would not have been fun. I’m old. I’m fat. And I’m slow.
She did however, immediately commence her cries of protest at being in the cage. And she didn’t stop until we got to the vet. Honestly, for an old lady, she sure can curse.
After finally getting the car out (which took several more minutes after the cages were loaded), we discovered that the easiest routes to the vet were blocked by fallen trees. At this point, none of the streets were cleared of snow, ice, or debris, so the five minute jaunt to the vet took half an hour. At one point, we were actually stuck half way up a huge hill with an SUV barreling down at us. The one slightly clear lane up the hill zigged and zagged around piles of fallen branches. Avoiding the SUV (who never stopped or paused once), cost us our momentum on the hill, so we ended up backing down the hill, around the branches and back to level ground. And all the while, Bennie kept up her monologue of profanities.
After the cats were dropped off, Keith went to work and I went home. After spending the day constantly adding layers and blankets, I told Keith there was no way we could stay in the house. Coming home night after night to a dark house was bad enough when the power was out in September. There was no way I was even going to consider throwing freezing cold into the mix. Especially since, based on past experience, it could take several days for the power to be restored.
I packed several bags with clothes, computers, munchies, medicines, and reading material. When Keith came home, we loaded up and headed out. While we were loading, our neighbors were packing up too. We had no idea if we could find a place to stay or not. We checked out a couple of extended stay motels, but one had no power and the office at the other one was closed. Then we passed a Red Roof Inn with a sign advertising weekly specials.
Just as we were walking in, a woman was turning in her key. Her sister had called her and reported that the power was back on at her house. When we asked for a room, they gave us her key and told us it was our lucky day. They’d been turning folks away for hours.
Incidentally, there’s a Waffle House in front of the place, and it just happens to be the same Waffle House Keith and I went to the night my father died. Coincidence?
The room isn’t much, but it is warm. It’s been interesting trying to fit both our plus-sized persons on one full-sized bed, but we’ve managed. We’ve been kind of treating it like an unexpected vacation, so it’s been a fun change of pace. The only downside is missing the kitties.
We’ll be checking out tomorrow and heading back home. The power is on and there’s lots to do back there. Plus, we’ll have three petulant felines to appease. The temp's rising and everything is melting!
Fascinating things about the aftermath of an icestorm:
Seeing all the trees bent over double from the weight of the ice. It’s beautiful, creepy, and dangerous all at the same time.
The way everything is encased in ice. Not covered, but more like coated all the way around.
Hearing the ice crack and pop when it starts to melt.
The sky was grey for days! Combined with all the ice coating everything, it was like living in a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale or a Little Nemo comic strip.
Turning on the national news and hearing stories about Kentucky. For some reason all the coverage centered on the little burg west of here where I grew up. Nothing is more bizarre than seeing Leitchfield, Kentucky on CNN! (By the way, I still cannot reach my mother. Been trying for days.)
Driving through familiar areas at night. Between the lack of power and the ice everywhere, even places that I know like the back of my hand were strange and unfamiliar. It’s really unnerving to drive down a street and realize that the only light for blocks is coming from your headlights.
The whole storm thing has been fascinating in many ways, annoying in some ways, and terrifying in others. The weather started getting bad last Sunday and Monday, with the first snowfall. By Tuesday, we had graduated through snow and sleet to full-fledged ice storms. Wednesday, we awoke, along with much of the city and a good part of the state, to no power.
Keith went to work, but I decided against showering in a freezing house. We called the vet as soon as they opened to see about boarding the cats. Luckily the vet’s office did have power. Bennie is 16 and doesn’t handle the cold very well at all. We wanted to get her some place warm, if at all possible. They called back after ten and said they could take them. Keith didn’t even have the car dug out at this point.
He kept digging and I went on a hunt in the dark for the cages. I only found two, so the boys had to share, which normally causes problems, but they were so freaked out by the cold that they just went instantly still and quiet in the cage. Bennie was so freaked out by everything that she didn’t even run when the cage came out, which is her usual behavior. I was thankful for that. She’s fat. She’s old. But when she wants to get away from the cage, she’s fast. Running after her through the dark house would not have been fun. I’m old. I’m fat. And I’m slow.
She did however, immediately commence her cries of protest at being in the cage. And she didn’t stop until we got to the vet. Honestly, for an old lady, she sure can curse.
After finally getting the car out (which took several more minutes after the cages were loaded), we discovered that the easiest routes to the vet were blocked by fallen trees. At this point, none of the streets were cleared of snow, ice, or debris, so the five minute jaunt to the vet took half an hour. At one point, we were actually stuck half way up a huge hill with an SUV barreling down at us. The one slightly clear lane up the hill zigged and zagged around piles of fallen branches. Avoiding the SUV (who never stopped or paused once), cost us our momentum on the hill, so we ended up backing down the hill, around the branches and back to level ground. And all the while, Bennie kept up her monologue of profanities.
After the cats were dropped off, Keith went to work and I went home. After spending the day constantly adding layers and blankets, I told Keith there was no way we could stay in the house. Coming home night after night to a dark house was bad enough when the power was out in September. There was no way I was even going to consider throwing freezing cold into the mix. Especially since, based on past experience, it could take several days for the power to be restored.
I packed several bags with clothes, computers, munchies, medicines, and reading material. When Keith came home, we loaded up and headed out. While we were loading, our neighbors were packing up too. We had no idea if we could find a place to stay or not. We checked out a couple of extended stay motels, but one had no power and the office at the other one was closed. Then we passed a Red Roof Inn with a sign advertising weekly specials.
Just as we were walking in, a woman was turning in her key. Her sister had called her and reported that the power was back on at her house. When we asked for a room, they gave us her key and told us it was our lucky day. They’d been turning folks away for hours.
Incidentally, there’s a Waffle House in front of the place, and it just happens to be the same Waffle House Keith and I went to the night my father died. Coincidence?
The room isn’t much, but it is warm. It’s been interesting trying to fit both our plus-sized persons on one full-sized bed, but we’ve managed. We’ve been kind of treating it like an unexpected vacation, so it’s been a fun change of pace. The only downside is missing the kitties.
We’ll be checking out tomorrow and heading back home. The power is on and there’s lots to do back there. Plus, we’ll have three petulant felines to appease. The temp's rising and everything is melting!
Fascinating things about the aftermath of an icestorm:
Seeing all the trees bent over double from the weight of the ice. It’s beautiful, creepy, and dangerous all at the same time.
The way everything is encased in ice. Not covered, but more like coated all the way around.
Hearing the ice crack and pop when it starts to melt.
The sky was grey for days! Combined with all the ice coating everything, it was like living in a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale or a Little Nemo comic strip.
Turning on the national news and hearing stories about Kentucky. For some reason all the coverage centered on the little burg west of here where I grew up. Nothing is more bizarre than seeing Leitchfield, Kentucky on CNN! (By the way, I still cannot reach my mother. Been trying for days.)
Driving through familiar areas at night. Between the lack of power and the ice everywhere, even places that I know like the back of my hand were strange and unfamiliar. It’s really unnerving to drive down a street and realize that the only light for blocks is coming from your headlights.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sentiment for Innaugural Day!
I'm sure it's a much over-used line today, but our long national nightmare is over!
Monday, January 19, 2009
DAY ON!
Today is the only national holiday that is also officially recognized as a day for national and community service. I'm getting ready to head off to a clothes closet for kids who need assistance just being ready for school. I've worked in some form of social services all my life, but this is the first time I've ever consciously taken part in an MLK Day service project.
Part of it is my new job. Community service is what we do. Members of my team are all over this town today, helping out. Several of them designed the projects they are working on. I'm really proud of all of them. In the short time I've been with this position, I've learned so much and grown at least a little.
I was raised with an understanding of my responsibility to the world around me and to the other people who live there. When I was still a part of organized religion, one of the conflicts I frequently had was with the idea that all we had to do was offer Jesus to others and everything else would be okay. I knew too many people who were content to save souls, but leave the bodies to starve.
In my time, I've organized marches and rallies, sat on boards, raised money and awareness, worked in shelters, planted trees, given out food, written letters to the editor, and a whole bunch of stuff I can't even remember. But, somehow, for the last ten years or so, I've been content to go to work, rationalizing that, since I was doing social service work, I was giving something every day and nothing more was really required of me. Maybe it was burn out. Maybe it was middle age malaise. Maybe it was whatever happens when you settle down with a partner and have a mortgage. Maybe it was just hibernating.
Coming out of it now, is, as I said, at least partly due to the job, but it's also the timing. We have a president who values community service enough to make today a part of the inaugural activities--a president who believes that we are strongest when we help each other and our communities. It's taken a while to get here, but I'm starting to get in touch with that spirit within me again. Maybe I'm starting to see, that for all the good work all our social service agencies do day in and day out, that something more is needed to make real change--something that taps into the spirit of who we are and what we can be.
Or maybe I'm sounding too much like an advertising slogan or a sermon. I was afraid I was going to end up going that route and get carried away. Regardless of the rhetoric or the flourishes, this is a day to help. A day to give. A day to serve. If you don't have anything lined up for today, go to the MLK Day web site and see what's happening in your local area. It's not too late.
And to close, let the Indigo Girls say it better than me:
Friday, January 09, 2009
In Canse You Were Wondering...
This is my favorite Iris Dement song:
Seems kind of fitting for a Friday. Maybe there'll be some romance for someone tonight?
Seems kind of fitting for a Friday. Maybe there'll be some romance for someone tonight?
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Forgot the camera, but still have some things to say about the flea market
Finally felt like crawling out of the grave and deciding to live on Monday. Just in time to return to work. Oh well. It's a living, as they used to say in the old cartoons. Still playing catch up, but do want to dash a few lines off about the flea market.
Despite my best intentions, I managed to get out the door on Friday without a camera, so this is a somewhat photo-less flea market report.
Flea markets and the like have always been in my blood, it seems. In the little town where I grew up, there was a flea market every Wednesday at the county stockyards. In fact, we always referred to going to the flea market as "going to the stockyards" which confused some of my friends. During the summer, I'd hardly miss a Wednesday. Surprisingly, that flea market still takes place, every Wednesday, even thought the spot where it does is now the Wal-Mart parking lot.
The main attraction for the flea market in those days for me was as place where I get get older comics cheaply--usually for 25 cents or less. At that point in time, there was no comic store in my life, no conventions, no mail order, certainly no Ebay, so what I had was the local flea market and my two little legs to carry me there.
I remember one time the local paper did a feature on the flea market and mentioned in passing a "young man looking through piles of old comic books for a quarter." I was totally convinced they meant me, so I clipped the article and kept it for years.
As I got older and moved away, I discovered other flea markets, along with other ways of dealing in second hand goods--thrift stores, yard sales, used book stores, etc. One of the best avenues in Louisville is the monthly Kentucky Flea Market, which is held at the state fairgrounds. I go at least once a year with my mom and try to talk Keith into going as often as I can.
Since this was New Year's weekend, the show actually had two halls full of dealers, instead of the usual one. I always like those, because the second hall is typically just antique dealers and I really do like to go look at that type of stuff. I could browse in a good-sized antiques mall for hours, without ever buying anything, and be quite content.
Typically, when we go to the flea market on a Friday, it's not that crowded. In fact, that's my favorite time to go, because you can take your time and really look at stuff without having to fight the people. I don't know if it was the holiday or what, but the place was packed this time. Packed full of people. Annoying people. The kind of gather in clumps in the middle of the aisles, not moving one way or the other, totally blocking traffic in both directions. The kind of people I have made a resolution not to kill or belittle or knock down this year. ARRGH!
ASIDE: I'm not a kid person, I admit. I don't have them and am kind of glad to be in a state of life that they're not going to be a part of. I understand bringing your kids to things that they'll enjoy, but I don't get all the people who bring all the kids in strollers (some as young as six months) to something like this. The kid cannot possibly be having fun surrounded by a forest of legs and not being able to see anything. The parents can't be having fun having to push the kid through the madness. And I'm definitely not having fun trying to maneuver around the one in front of me while the one behind me keeps bumping me in the ankles! Isn't that what sitters are for?
Anyway, Keith and I kept getting separated by the crowds, which made things a lot less fun for both of us. It's hard to point out stuff to each other when you're not together. And since one of us, who shall remain nameless*, forgot his cell phone, we were out of touch a lot, which led to lots of waiting and wondering, especially since the nameless and phoneless one is prone to easy distraction and can take quite a while to work through things.
We spent some time later trying to figure out what kind of effect the economy was having on the flea market. It seems to me like there were as many people as usual there with carts full of purchases, but that may not mean anything. According to the paper, some dealers said there sales were back up after a bad summer slump due to gas prices, but were still off from last year. But, Keith overheard a couple of dealers of the "As Seen on TV" crap who said that they were selling out of things with two days left to go.
I know in the antique wing lots of dealers were offering specials, but I still saw a lot of sales taking place too. There seemed to be fewer of the "banana box" dealers--those folks who buy out of date and near out of date goods in bulk (in banana boxes) and sell stuff at a buck or so a pop--but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Row after row of that kind of stuff becomes old fast. And the ones that were there had tightened up considerably, so it didn't look like they had taken over the place.
In terms of my purchases, I had a pretty good day. The antique wing yielded some inexpensive additions to my collection of religious paraphernalia. And surprisingly, I was able to get some nice comics in both the antique and non-antique wings at reasonable prices, including several issues of Little Lulu and Sugar and Spike, which made me happy! i also got a couple of Dennis the Meance giants from the 60's in beautiful shape for a buck each!** Plus I got a couple of very early Rhonda vincent CD's, from the days when she was still part of the Sally Mountain Show.
My own comic shop always sets up at the flea market with some quarter boxes of comics and overstock CDs for sale. One of the many many things to love about my shop is the music selection. Since there are two branches of the store in Nashville, they always have some great folk and Americana selections, especially since every few months the stores swap out their overstock.
I spent a little bit of time there talking to the store manager, since she was working the booth alone and it was a little slow right then. I made sure she got some of the holiday goodies I left at the shop for the staff and told her about my new job, since it will enable me to actually begin placing orders again.
We also talked about how the economy is affecting the store. I had been a little concerned because I knew that they had stopped buying stuff from people for a while. She told me that they had to do that because they got flooded with people selling stuff when the gas prices were so high, so now they're basically overstocked and need to let that thin out for a bit.
But she also said that, overall, they had not been as badly affected by the recession as they thought they would be. Sales are a little off, but not as bad as they could be, which was nice to hear. I've been concerned about them, since a) small/local businesses get hit hardest by economic downturns and b) contrary to what some may say, they're not selling necessity items.
Still, I was surprised to hear that someone had started a rumor in town that they were going out of business. It hasn't seem to hurt them, but that's not the kind of thing they need to have happening right now. One thing that I do think will help them weather this storm is their history. They've been around for over 30 years now. I first shopped there my senior year of high school, when I was 17. They've obviously got staying power and a pretty loyal customer base. It was good to chat with her for a bit.
And, finally, I can think of nothing better to wrap this up than this little ditty by Mexican pop group Flans about finding true love at a flea market:
All together now:
"Entre cuadros y revistas,
camisetas, discos y jeans,
Entre cuadros y revistas,
camisetas, discos y jeans"
Some of my favorite shopping experiences in Mexico City were in settings like this.
*We must protect the innocent, you see. And I tell you, this person really is innocent. Forgetful, but innocent. And quite charming too!
**Which is not to say that there weren't dealers asking outrageous prices for mediocre stuff in even worse shape, but I'm focusing on the positive and not the asshats.
Despite my best intentions, I managed to get out the door on Friday without a camera, so this is a somewhat photo-less flea market report.
Flea markets and the like have always been in my blood, it seems. In the little town where I grew up, there was a flea market every Wednesday at the county stockyards. In fact, we always referred to going to the flea market as "going to the stockyards" which confused some of my friends. During the summer, I'd hardly miss a Wednesday. Surprisingly, that flea market still takes place, every Wednesday, even thought the spot where it does is now the Wal-Mart parking lot.
The main attraction for the flea market in those days for me was as place where I get get older comics cheaply--usually for 25 cents or less. At that point in time, there was no comic store in my life, no conventions, no mail order, certainly no Ebay, so what I had was the local flea market and my two little legs to carry me there.
I remember one time the local paper did a feature on the flea market and mentioned in passing a "young man looking through piles of old comic books for a quarter." I was totally convinced they meant me, so I clipped the article and kept it for years.
As I got older and moved away, I discovered other flea markets, along with other ways of dealing in second hand goods--thrift stores, yard sales, used book stores, etc. One of the best avenues in Louisville is the monthly Kentucky Flea Market, which is held at the state fairgrounds. I go at least once a year with my mom and try to talk Keith into going as often as I can.
Since this was New Year's weekend, the show actually had two halls full of dealers, instead of the usual one. I always like those, because the second hall is typically just antique dealers and I really do like to go look at that type of stuff. I could browse in a good-sized antiques mall for hours, without ever buying anything, and be quite content.
Typically, when we go to the flea market on a Friday, it's not that crowded. In fact, that's my favorite time to go, because you can take your time and really look at stuff without having to fight the people. I don't know if it was the holiday or what, but the place was packed this time. Packed full of people. Annoying people. The kind of gather in clumps in the middle of the aisles, not moving one way or the other, totally blocking traffic in both directions. The kind of people I have made a resolution not to kill or belittle or knock down this year. ARRGH!
ASIDE: I'm not a kid person, I admit. I don't have them and am kind of glad to be in a state of life that they're not going to be a part of. I understand bringing your kids to things that they'll enjoy, but I don't get all the people who bring all the kids in strollers (some as young as six months) to something like this. The kid cannot possibly be having fun surrounded by a forest of legs and not being able to see anything. The parents can't be having fun having to push the kid through the madness. And I'm definitely not having fun trying to maneuver around the one in front of me while the one behind me keeps bumping me in the ankles! Isn't that what sitters are for?
Anyway, Keith and I kept getting separated by the crowds, which made things a lot less fun for both of us. It's hard to point out stuff to each other when you're not together. And since one of us, who shall remain nameless*, forgot his cell phone, we were out of touch a lot, which led to lots of waiting and wondering, especially since the nameless and phoneless one is prone to easy distraction and can take quite a while to work through things.
We spent some time later trying to figure out what kind of effect the economy was having on the flea market. It seems to me like there were as many people as usual there with carts full of purchases, but that may not mean anything. According to the paper, some dealers said there sales were back up after a bad summer slump due to gas prices, but were still off from last year. But, Keith overheard a couple of dealers of the "As Seen on TV" crap who said that they were selling out of things with two days left to go.
I know in the antique wing lots of dealers were offering specials, but I still saw a lot of sales taking place too. There seemed to be fewer of the "banana box" dealers--those folks who buy out of date and near out of date goods in bulk (in banana boxes) and sell stuff at a buck or so a pop--but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Row after row of that kind of stuff becomes old fast. And the ones that were there had tightened up considerably, so it didn't look like they had taken over the place.
In terms of my purchases, I had a pretty good day. The antique wing yielded some inexpensive additions to my collection of religious paraphernalia. And surprisingly, I was able to get some nice comics in both the antique and non-antique wings at reasonable prices, including several issues of Little Lulu and Sugar and Spike, which made me happy! i also got a couple of Dennis the Meance giants from the 60's in beautiful shape for a buck each!** Plus I got a couple of very early Rhonda vincent CD's, from the days when she was still part of the Sally Mountain Show.
My own comic shop always sets up at the flea market with some quarter boxes of comics and overstock CDs for sale. One of the many many things to love about my shop is the music selection. Since there are two branches of the store in Nashville, they always have some great folk and Americana selections, especially since every few months the stores swap out their overstock.
I spent a little bit of time there talking to the store manager, since she was working the booth alone and it was a little slow right then. I made sure she got some of the holiday goodies I left at the shop for the staff and told her about my new job, since it will enable me to actually begin placing orders again.
We also talked about how the economy is affecting the store. I had been a little concerned because I knew that they had stopped buying stuff from people for a while. She told me that they had to do that because they got flooded with people selling stuff when the gas prices were so high, so now they're basically overstocked and need to let that thin out for a bit.
But she also said that, overall, they had not been as badly affected by the recession as they thought they would be. Sales are a little off, but not as bad as they could be, which was nice to hear. I've been concerned about them, since a) small/local businesses get hit hardest by economic downturns and b) contrary to what some may say, they're not selling necessity items.
Still, I was surprised to hear that someone had started a rumor in town that they were going out of business. It hasn't seem to hurt them, but that's not the kind of thing they need to have happening right now. One thing that I do think will help them weather this storm is their history. They've been around for over 30 years now. I first shopped there my senior year of high school, when I was 17. They've obviously got staying power and a pretty loyal customer base. It was good to chat with her for a bit.
And, finally, I can think of nothing better to wrap this up than this little ditty by Mexican pop group Flans about finding true love at a flea market:
All together now:
"Entre cuadros y revistas,
camisetas, discos y jeans,
Entre cuadros y revistas,
camisetas, discos y jeans"
Some of my favorite shopping experiences in Mexico City were in settings like this.
*We must protect the innocent, you see. And I tell you, this person really is innocent. Forgetful, but innocent. And quite charming too!
**Which is not to say that there weren't dealers asking outrageous prices for mediocre stuff in even worse shape, but I'm focusing on the positive and not the asshats.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
When the dead walk, the content sleeps
I'm just a bit under the weather: aches, cramps, fever, stomach issues and the like. I'm thinking the sweet sleep of oblivion might be preferable to trying to sit up and actually trying to do something productive. (Although there is so much to do right now...)
See you on the other side.
In the meantime, here's the opening sequence to my all time favorite telenovela, Preciosa:
Wow! That was on the air like ten years agi. Where does the time go?
See you on the other side.
In the meantime, here's the opening sequence to my all time favorite telenovela, Preciosa:
Wow! That was on the air like ten years agi. Where does the time go?
Friday, January 02, 2009
Happiest of the Newest and all that somesuch...
Okay, I made it mostly through December posting, until after Christmas at least. I'm not claiming any of it was especially rich or meaningful, but it was content. I also learned the value of the Blogger post-scheduling feature. Unfortunately, the streak ended when I went for my annual post-Christmas house-sitting venture. I've never had problems with internet access over there before, but I couldn't get online this time to save my soul.
So, after that, I took a couple of days hiatus, but I'm back. it's time for one of my favorite New Year's weekend activities: The Kentucky Flea Market! It's a two-winger this time, which is always good for finding some cheap comics and other stuff. I'm trying real hard to remember my camera, so I can photo-blog this.
I'm on forced leave without pay today, like all of my colleagues in this recession-riddled city, but that's actually turning out to be a good thing, since I've got a lot to do at the house and I wanted some extra down time before I "officially" start my new job on Monday.
Thinking blogically, I've got a bit of an idea about what I want to do over the next couple of weeks: some cheesy DVD reviews, a couple of graphic novel reviews, my take on the best (or at least my favorite) music of 2008, my goals for 2009, stuff I'm looking forward too, and a couple of regular features I'd like to unleash once my scanner gets hooked up again. Oh yeah, and I have some bleated gifts for a few bloggers, plus a rundown on the holidays here at chez Evans-Mitchell.
But for now, the flea market awaits, as does breakfast, so I must hie me hither!
2009 might actually me the year I become a real blogger. It only took five years, but I'm somewhat of a late bloomer.
So here, celebrate 2009 with some classic Linda Ronstadt:
Ever notice how her best stuff was also her saddest stuff?
So, after that, I took a couple of days hiatus, but I'm back. it's time for one of my favorite New Year's weekend activities: The Kentucky Flea Market! It's a two-winger this time, which is always good for finding some cheap comics and other stuff. I'm trying real hard to remember my camera, so I can photo-blog this.
I'm on forced leave without pay today, like all of my colleagues in this recession-riddled city, but that's actually turning out to be a good thing, since I've got a lot to do at the house and I wanted some extra down time before I "officially" start my new job on Monday.
Thinking blogically, I've got a bit of an idea about what I want to do over the next couple of weeks: some cheesy DVD reviews, a couple of graphic novel reviews, my take on the best (or at least my favorite) music of 2008, my goals for 2009, stuff I'm looking forward too, and a couple of regular features I'd like to unleash once my scanner gets hooked up again. Oh yeah, and I have some bleated gifts for a few bloggers, plus a rundown on the holidays here at chez Evans-Mitchell.
But for now, the flea market awaits, as does breakfast, so I must hie me hither!
2009 might actually me the year I become a real blogger. It only took five years, but I'm somewhat of a late bloomer.
So here, celebrate 2009 with some classic Linda Ronstadt:
Ever notice how her best stuff was also her saddest stuff?
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Putting the Christ back in Christmas...
And now that we've successfully restored our Lord and Savior to His proper spot in His own birthday celebration, Jesus and I wish you all a Happy Christmas! And a blessed New Year!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Putting the Christ back in Christmas...
...with Gumby and Jesus holding hands! Isn't that what this holiday is all about?
By the way, this is a parody of the "Otters Holding Hands" video that I featured a while back.
By the way, this is a parody of the "Otters Holding Hands" video that I featured a while back.
Friday, December 19, 2008
A Holiday Gift From Me to You!
You had to know this one was coming. I mean, really.
Since I've been giving the gift of music for the holidays here at the Eddie-torial HQ, it was inevitable that one of my gift-giving days would feature my beloved Goddess of Music, the inimitable, ineffable Emmylou Harris.
She's spoken a lot in interviews and concerts about how she is drawn to songs that reflect the more moody, melancholy side of life. As a person prone to both moodiness and melancholic phases, I can totally relate. I love happy fun music too, but the stuff that truly resonates and sticks with me is the darker stuff.
I think that explain the appeal that Americana music has for me, especially songs based on bluegrass and traditional tunes. Like a lot of people, I sometimes look to entertainment media as an escape from the pressures of life. More often, though, I look for entertainment that actually helps me cope rather than escape. You can only escape for sho long, eventually you have to return. I tend to prefer stuff that sticks with me and reminds me that not only to other people have to put up with a lot of shit too, but that they can and do survive and cope.
In that spirit, I give you Emmylou Harris:
This duet with John Prine is a hoot. He wrote the song, which is a little off-color, and originally sang it with Iris Dement. The video is totally crappy, but it's worth enduring to see Ms. Emmy do that hip shake on the chorus! She really hams it up!
This is from her latest release, about which I have more to say later. That's Buddy Miller playing the guitar with her. The doomed love of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A.P._Carter was probably one of the first celebrity scandals in country music. BONUS: Go here and see the family tree of this legendary family.
An oldie, but an absolute favorite--"Rose of Cimarron."
You know when Steve Earle and Emmylou get together the results are going to be: a) extremely good and b) extremely sad.
Happy Holidays from Steve, John, Emmylou (the Goddess of Music) and me!
Since I've been giving the gift of music for the holidays here at the Eddie-torial HQ, it was inevitable that one of my gift-giving days would feature my beloved Goddess of Music, the inimitable, ineffable Emmylou Harris.
She's spoken a lot in interviews and concerts about how she is drawn to songs that reflect the more moody, melancholy side of life. As a person prone to both moodiness and melancholic phases, I can totally relate. I love happy fun music too, but the stuff that truly resonates and sticks with me is the darker stuff.
I think that explain the appeal that Americana music has for me, especially songs based on bluegrass and traditional tunes. Like a lot of people, I sometimes look to entertainment media as an escape from the pressures of life. More often, though, I look for entertainment that actually helps me cope rather than escape. You can only escape for sho long, eventually you have to return. I tend to prefer stuff that sticks with me and reminds me that not only to other people have to put up with a lot of shit too, but that they can and do survive and cope.
In that spirit, I give you Emmylou Harris:
This duet with John Prine is a hoot. He wrote the song, which is a little off-color, and originally sang it with Iris Dement. The video is totally crappy, but it's worth enduring to see Ms. Emmy do that hip shake on the chorus! She really hams it up!
This is from her latest release, about which I have more to say later. That's Buddy Miller playing the guitar with her. The doomed love of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A.P._Carter was probably one of the first celebrity scandals in country music. BONUS: Go here and see the family tree of this legendary family.
An oldie, but an absolute favorite--"Rose of Cimarron."
You know when Steve Earle and Emmylou get together the results are going to be: a) extremely good and b) extremely sad.
Happy Holidays from Steve, John, Emmylou (the Goddess of Music) and me!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Putting the Christ back in Christmas...
it is absolutely appalling to everyone here at the Eddie-torial Headquarters the way that Jesus has gotten pushed to the side during the celebration of His own birthday. This whole insistence that there are other celebrations taking place this time of year, most of which are older than Christianity is galling to the core. In an effort to combat this encroaching liberal, secular war on Christmas, we have scoured the YouTube to bring you the best in videos expressing the proper sentiments of reverence for our Lord and Savior. From now until December 25, we will be presenting one each day to restore the Christ to Christmas. We hope that they bless you richly.
Happy holidays, indeed.
Happy holidays, indeed.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
On the 17th of December, my favorite infrequently updated blog gave to me...
...French hipsters dancing!
Nouvelle Vague: Dance with Me
Nouvelle Vague: Dance with Me
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