The Columbus flea market is a huge, sprawling indoor/outdoor market. It is seriously as far removed from the halls of Bergdorfs as you can get. As I have watched the middle class disappear since the crash, this is perhaps most symbolic.
I don’t know how to explain it, my feelings. I’m an art director, advertising, so my job is to sell stuff, make it somehow necessary to your life. But when I come here, and I see the result of planned obsolescence– acres and acres of junk, it depresses me. Especially at Christmas time, the frenzy of buying stuff. It’s crazy.
When I saw these shopping carts parked with the flags behind them, it summed up what I was feeling at the moment, an American Christmas, seemingly so far away from the Rockwell version.
There is a farmer’s market section and they have awesome produce- and seafood. Got a beautiful red snapper - the butcher always does a perfect job of filleting it (skin-on- or skin-off? On, naturally) and he throws in a fresh lime. That makes up for it all, the colors and smells of the produce, it brings back the humanity.
Happily the trip home takes us through miles of open farmland and I can watch the sky, clouds and birds and think of taking the dog for our walk in the fields when I get home.