Chickens, Rust, Guns and Cages

Yesterday, I had two new life experiences.  The first was Swap Days, a bigger than big flea market, held at the local fair grounds.  To give you some idea of the enormity of this event, I live just over ten miles from the fairgrounds.  I left the local MacDonald's at 8:17 a.m., chicken biscuit in hand, and did not enter the fairgrounds to begin my adventure until 10:00 a.m.  One hour and 43 minutes to travel 10 miles.

All was well and good, traffic moving smoothly along, until the last two miles of the journey. Everything then came to a grinding halt.  Those last two miles cost me an hour or so of my life. My text to Better Half, as I simmered in traffic with more than half the tri-state area,  "A great deal of patience is required."   Now I know why he declined the invitation to go with me. 

As I simmered, somewhere off to my left, I could hear a voice calling out to me.  There was Orion, of all things, with two of his friends.  They were stopping at the ATM to get some cash.  They wanted me to let them cut in line.  Now, mind you, there were dozens of great big he-man pick-up trucks behind me, all of whom had waited patiently in the traffic jam, just like me.    Nobody, and I repeat nobody, was in a sure-I'll-let-you-cut-in frame of  mind. Nevertheless, I let Orion in.  I've lived to tell the story. 

We parked, and began the trek to the fairgrounds.  We fairly bubbled with excitement.  I saw my first gun-toting person 20 feet or so inside the gate. Then another, and still another.  Everybody, it seemed, was carrying guns.  Soon, I lost my apprehension, and gave myself over to enjoying the day.  I walked with Orion and his friends for a while, but our roads soon diverged, and I was left to wander on my own.

I love Swap Days.  Enjoy it with me . . .

Tomorrow, part 2 of the weekend adventure - Southern Ohio Machine Gun Shoot.