JUNKIN' AND ROMANCIN'...or..MY SORDID PAST

Most of you know me as a 43 year old single mom to a 19 year old college boy who lives a fairly structured low key life. In bed early most nights, awake before dawn, daily yoga classes both as a teacher and a student, and owner of an online antiques and jewelry business. But back in the 80s, I was a much wilder soul. Disco was dying down, but I was still revved up. When I lost my waitress job and ended up finding my niche as an antique dealer, I didn't realize it would lead to me meeting the man who would later become my son's father.

It was a cold and rainy winter night (ok, I don't really remember if it was cold or rainy, or if it was winter yet, but that makes for a better story), and my cousin/ fellow antique junkie met a couple of antique dealer quasi-hippie dudes from West Virginia at the local antique monthly flea market, Elco. Elco was a staple for most antique dealers and pickers back then...god rest ELlen and COokie's souls (they were the "EL" and the "CO")...the founders of the famous market. Long story short, Brad and Dave were quite the charismatic guys, and I even discovered quickly that Brad was the ex husband of a friend of mine who I'd heard of for quite some time. "Oh you're the a**hole I've been hearing about," I said..."Yep, that's me." (word: when a guy admits he is an a**hole, that should be a big earning sign...I'm just saying..) And a romance began.

Brad was tall and dark....he kinda looked like the love child of Clark Gable and Tom Selleck..well, a combination of Clark and Tom if they drank a lot. I do mean a lot....Wild Turkey was his morning mouthwash. He was 36; I was 22. While today, if I met someone like Brad, a bazillion red flags along with images of Robot from Lost in Space with his flailing robot arms saying "WARNING WILL ROBINSON DANGER ALIENS APPROACHING" would be shooting through my head, back then it was just exciting. I guess my stupidity was a good thing or else I'd probably be a barren woman today. Alex (my kid) definitely wouldn't be here...so, no regrets. Not a one.

I know, part of this post is entitled "MY SORDID PAST" but that was just a lure to draw you in. Yes, there was the good, the bad and the ugly...for now, I really just want to focus on the antiquing and romancing part. Brad was the first straight guy I had ever met who enjoyed sitting up late at night "playing" jewelry with me. I swear...he loved it....and so did I. We'd be all cuddled up in our jammies (or, well, uh, nevermind) after a long day of junkin' with boxes of baubles and trinkets all over the place. As we sorted out the stuff to sell, he'd drape necklaces and bracelets on me, and we'd decide what would become "keepers" and what was inventory for my store or antique shows. We'd frequent flea markets, antique shows and shops, pawn shops and yard sales. Brad lived in West Virginia and would come down to Atlanta every month or so for Elco. We had a blast most of the time.

My favorite times with Brad were when we went on the road. We were pretty spontaneous back then...even after Alex was born only a couple of short years after we met. Seems we'd just pack up some bags and hop in the car whenever we felt like it; next thing we knew, we were on the highway with a flea market guide and a map, heading towards the next big flea market or antique mall. Before Alex was born, we were a bit more amorous, at least while we scoured the countryside, driving down obscure roads (after tossing the map down) and hoping that by some sort of divine intervention, a cool little shop would somehow appear. And appear they did...all the time. Yes, we were young and silly and in love, and while we drove, we'd be kissing and, well, "making out", ready to stop at the first shop we found.

Once, we had been driving through south Georgia for a couple of hours, happy just to be together, and in the distance we saw a little house....I said how perfect it would be to find an antique shop at that very moment, how it would truly be an awesome way to round out what had been a perfect day of riding through the country being all "schmooey" with my man. As we drew nearer, it was as if the angels were singing as we saw the little neon "ANTIQUES" sign in the window and the rockers and other antiques on the porch. The house was packed with all kinds of great stuff: turn-of-the-century American oak dressers and wash stands, English burl walnut wardrobes, porcelain and china, dolls, and my all time favorite, a few cases of jewelry here and there. I can't say I remember just what I bought that day. I know it was something...maybe an old piece of American art pottery or a little doll. It doesn't matter...what does matter is my memory of how good it felt to be with someone who shared my passion for hunting down antiques and the thrill of the "kill".

We went to so many places in the few short years we were together...the now defunct Esau's flea market in Knoxville, Tenn (where we set up each month and sold our wares), the Anderson, S.C. Jockey Lot, home of what was supposed to be the southeast's largest flea market (I bought a collection of authentic Victorian mourning jewelry there), Webster flea market ( I bought a miniature bronze Victorian statue of a nude Neoclassic style woman. I still have it..I passed on the goats for sale), and many more. When we were in West Virginia, we would go to country auctions, finding copper kettles, farm collectibles, and of course, more jewelry. I still have the carved wooden leaf pin with dangling carved acorns with bakelite tops....it's similar to this pin for sale in my shop.

Perhaps one of the most memorable trips we ever took was soon after we met. We were driving back from his mother's home in Bridgeport, West Virginia, and it began to snow. By the time we got to Virginia, it was really coming down. We stopped for dinner and our car was covered with a few inches by the time we finished eating. So we got a room at a nearby hotel and in the morning, it was still coming down hard. We decided to check out and brave the roads, and within a short distance, even the highway was closed off. The next week was spent inching along a few miles, then finding the nearest little city, an antique shop if we could, then a hotel, room service, and romantic nights together with our found treasures and each other. We were in the middle of what was probably the worse blizzard to ever hit the entire east coast and having the best time I can imagine. When we arrived in Atlanta, nearly a week had passed and the city was buried under nearly a foot of snow. It was beautiful...and so were the glitzy jewels vintage collectibles we found along the way!

When Alex was about 2, I remember going to "Little Washington" Pennsylvania for a big flea market to set up a booth and go shopping as well. It was a harness racing race track location and the dealers would all meet at night and watch the last races, then spend the night and wake up before dawn to start selling. It was all very exciting...to watch the races, to camp out, the anticipation of finding some rare and wonderful antique or bauble to either keep or sell for a nice profit. The possiblities were endless and the mystery of it all was absolutely electric. Mix that with the fact that I was with my favorite people in the world...my son and his father...and I can't think of a time that I was happier. All of us cuddled up all night in our van to stay warm, not really being able to sleep too well (well, Alex did)...fun, exciting, and so different than my life today. I still have an old photo from that day in Little Washington...Alex being held up on a little bicycle that was too big for him at the time, and Brad in his Panama straw hat.

I have other memories...so many...like the time we found a store in Clendenin, West Virginia while driving back from his home in Bridgeport. It was closed but the owners lived above the shop and after much knocking, they came down and opened up for us. I found an old Shirley Temple coloring book there. Or the time when it was dark and we found an odd little shop that was just packed with all kinds of good stuff. An elderly black couple lived there...I think the man's name was Franklin...not sure. The spooky thing was when his wife told him to answer the phone...and THEN it rang. Brad and I gave each other a "look" (think Twilight Zone theme song playing in the background of our minds...do do do do, do do do do....), and we never forgot the couple, the little weird psychic incident...or the cool antique African trading beads I bought there.

I can't say I miss the days of driving all around and living off of convenience store snacks and fast food, sleeping in the van, and schlepping stuff to display at flea markets and antique stores. Nor do I miss the drama that also went with my relationship with Brad. I am, however, grateful for the memories of what turned out to be a bygone era in my life....times spent with a man whom I loved very much, combining our passion for "junque" and each other, as well as our love for our baby, Alex.

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This made me smile so I thought I would share:

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