A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

A few weeks ago, I posted a blog about my trip to the Pickens County Flea Market with JR. Some of you (including JR) wanted some pictures to go along with the fun, and who am I to not give you what you want? Here you go, the photo journal that captures the true essence of a day at the flea market. They are in no particular order, because I didn't feel like putting them in order.

Notice no market on the Lord's day. And also notice the odd little pipe sculpture with what could pass as a wizard's hat? Isn't that, gulp, witch craft? A sign of the devil? Wait, it's in all American patriotic colors...nevermind.

Little racist bottles, for your racist bottle collection. Cotton puffs, from the Dixie Cotton Company, Dr. Blaxx Laxx, Little African licorice drops, and Uncle Bob's Stove Black. All reproductions, and all horrible.

An assortment of shackles. Just try to escape from The Man with these babies on. You won't get far before the bloodhounds sniff you out.

This collection of KKK rocks disgusted me more than the old guy's racist table, because they don't look like reproductions. Some are painted, some are carved, one is misspelled, but they all can smash your window and put some fear in your heart. Burning cross not included.

While most of the KKK rocks are ready to use, this one comes in a protective case to commemorate your latest foray under the white hood. Any white supremacist would be proud to display this rock of hate both at home or at the office.

Here he is, the little stripey pizza-eating piggy. Wild boar, perhaps? If you look in the bottom of the cage, you can see the hunks of pizza not yet devoured. If anyone has ever seen this type of porker and can correctly identify it, please post a comment for us all to learn from and enjoy.

Speaking of pigs, this is the old dude with the racist table. Notice the collection of bigot bank reproductions. Notice also the "Get R Done" hat and the sunken cheeks, indicating tooth loss.

Anyone in the mood for a little down home bluegrass? I love this man's hair. He has been wearing it that way since he came back from the Korean War. The little caged piggy was in the audience, because nothing goes better with bluegrass at ten in the morning than some old pizza.

Back to the racist dude's table. This, my friends, is a chastity belt. How does one use the facilities in this contraption? Maybe that's why it looks a little rusty. Nothing says "I trust you" like an pair of iron panties with a lock on them.

Why just get her done when you can "Get-Er-Done?" A nudie lighter that actually says "Get-Er-Done" when you squeeze it. And such a bargain at $2.00. The gentleman selling them assured me that was way below the price they go for down at the truck stop. Who doesn't want a talking lighter with boobies?!?

Another angle of the bluegrass band. Unfortunately, JR was unable to get a good shot of the man dressed up like a prospector. I think he was onto us, and he looked suspicious. Then again, he probably always looks that way. Maybe he could smell the college degrees on us, all that fancy book learnin'. They were a good little band, though.

And finally, the set of shackles that disturbed us the most, the negro woman or child pair. I don't know if they are real or reproduction, for display or just a retired pair. But no joke, they just look evil. They make me feel sad and ashamed at the same time, not for anything that I have done, exactly, but more for what humans do to other humans. At least the piggy got a slice of pizza.

So there you go, documentation that what I described at the Pickens Flea Market was not creative license. Thanks again to JR for both making me go with her and for capturing the many moments that I am now able to share with you. I think it's almost time to take another trip, don't you?