Flea Markets as Scrounging Sources

Flea markets are wonderful places for scrounging. One can find bargains of almost any kind, including items that libraries might find interesting and useful. They’re also hot, dusty, and to get the best stuff you have to go early in the morning before the bulk of the buying crowd gets there. I’ve always had that ambivalent feeling about them--punishment for the hope of reward. I guess it fits with my Puritan heritage.

I seldom buy books at flea markets anymore. Often they are dirty, beaten up, and more expensive than I’d like. More importantly, the selection is often limited to acres of paperback fiction, most of which does not appeal. In fact, paper items in general are a losing proposition, since they often sit for hours in the hot sun, fading and gathering parking lot dirt. Sheet music is better found in antique malls where the climate is more suitable. Record albums, if one wants them, are plentiful, but most libraries don’t care about them anymore (I think this is a shame). As with paper, condition is a problem, and I don’t usually pick up anything unless it’s something unusual that I may never see again. I think my last purchase was a album of Finnish-American music by Viola Turpeinen, who I read about in Victor Greene’s A Passion for Polka. Born in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, she played button box accordion through all the Finnish communities and lumber camps in the North Country. I love this kind of stuff.

Usually I look for CDs. They are less likely to be ruined by flea market conditions and if your tastes are eclectic enough, you are likely to find something. I seldom spend more than $3.00 per item, and generally look for those priced $1-2.00. I occasionally find them for much less. Once I ran across a booth where a fellow was selling CDs that he must have picked up in a batch from some remainder store, as they had price stickers of $1.00, but he was selling them for 50 cents. As I began working through the piles I started finding some unusual items--Native American music, Latin CDs, and other items I wasn’t likely to find anywhere for the price. After I had piled up a couple dozen, the proprietor turned to me and said, “Oh, if you’re going to buy a lot, take them for 25 cents each.” Frenzy ensued, and I ended up with 56 CDs. Narcocorridos from Northern Mexico, harmonized Peyote songs, hammered dulcimer music, New Jack Swing, Broadway tunes, and I can’t recall what else. “Yes, Doctor Fever, I have a problem.”