Never thought I’d be a vendor, now I are one. Yep. Living in Mt. Pleasant and witnessing the goings on of the annual Old Threshers Reunion, and observing the flood of vendors that descend on the town, I decided, “I can do this.” Last fall I walked into the Chamber of Commerce office, and plumped down my deposit. And it ain’t cheap either, for a prime space on the Mt. Pleasant square. But it’s for five days of selling, as Old Threshers starts with a parade on Wednesday and runs through Labor Day the following Monday. “If nothing else,” I told myself, “It’ll be an exercise that I can chalk up to experience.”
What do I vend?
Well, my rusty junk sculptures, and framed photographs. I own one of those 10’ x 10’ easy-up canopies. Whoever named them “easy-up” probably never had to set one up in actual conditions. The heat was horrendous. Before Mary and I even had one side up, I was soaked in sweat with my hearing aids squealing. (Moisture drives them nuts.) Removing them, I asked myself, “How important is hearing in this heat?” “Huh?”
The patch of park I had rented was 20’ x 20’, which gave me ample room to display my junk, I mean “art,” and shelter my photography. (Weather doesn’t hurt rust, you know, and adds to the decor of Old Threshers.) As if a predictor of our success, while Mary and I were loading the trailer for the transport of sculptures to the park, we sold a piece right out of the trailer. A passerby couldn’t resist. Noting like getting the ball rolling. We must of looked liked the Clampetts heading for California.
We took steel magnolias, empty ness monsters, spike balls, shovel butts, fighting dogs, cattails, Gothic trellises (gellises), a wheel trellis (wheelis), good ole Auger Dogger, an engine-block bird, as well as numerous framed photographs. (Only two sculptures broke apart during transport, which isn’t bad.) Of course, plenty of ibuprofen for the back was included. Mary says I need to find a lighter hobby, like crocheting.