So strange, in fact, that I often feel as if the rest of the world is far stranger once I leave and return to normality. Despite all of the junk (and there is a LOT), the amount of stories that accompany the denizens of those creaky shelves is sort of mind boggling. In one corner hung a set of 12 marionette puppets from a Chinese Opera dating back to the 1850s. Ran for 4 and a half thousand dollars, of course, but how they managed to end up in a seaside antique shop on the other side of the world I would love to know. In a corner directly opposite were a set of what looked like playing cards, but without suits and numbers, each depicting a vaguely awkward moment in the standard day of a Victorian gentlemen. What's the story there? There's always a story.... I'm forever in search of narrative in any kind of artwork. Particularly my own.
The real find, though, came after crate-digging to the point where my knees were yelling at me - 3 LPs by Spooky Tooth, all in great condition for only 7 dollars apiece. The wonderful thing about an antique store rather than a record store is that often, the clerks don't grade using goldmine standards or a price guide. These things were an absolute steal. Of course, the downside is that they'll often tag something worth only 2 dollars for upwards of 10, but who's counting when you're unemployed and have bills to pay? So now the wonderful psychedelic blues rock of an oft-overlooked classic band is thrumming out of my speakers, hammond organ grinding away against tweaked out guitar solos. It's a bit cliche to carry a torch for a movement firmly entrenched in the past, but God if the feelings that are brought up by cranking classic rock on the turntable aren't some of the more life-affirming things I've experienced. I feel a bit like Dewey Finn. Now raise your goblet of ROCK.
Support your local second-hand store. You never know what you'll find.