sometimes, you're walking around the house and you think, 'wow, i could use some nag champa,' 'i do not have enough african fertility idols,' or 'if i HAD a portrait of huey newton i would put it there, in that spot right above the couch.' it is at times like these, friends, that you need not despair. you need not fret. you need only wait until saturday morning for the greatest flea market of them all: ASHBY FLEA AT ASHBY BART. there literally are no end to the treasures one can encounter there. food! drink! obama t-shirts! knock off gucci sandals! deer bookends that i regret not purchasing every single day of my life! speaker wire! cell phone chargers, all sizes! bikes! (however, it should be noted that there is a place in hell for those who buy stolen bikes.) i was even priveleged enough to know someone who participated in the drum circle, so i got front row seats to that groovy weekend special. DELIGHTFUL!
so, so many sunday afternoons i would emerge from underground at the ashby bart station, trekking home after a long weekend in the city, walking out into swarms of people haggling over peacock feather earrings, nonchalantly elbowing my way through the crowds, rolling my eyes at the overwhelmed tourists and muscling up to the hot dog cart; "i NEED a hot dog, and i NEED a coca cola, and then i NEED to go buy a velvet painting depicting the birth of haile selassie." oh ashby flea market, you were like the walgreens for my soul.
fine print:
image belongs to:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/frubix/
ashby bart station:
http://www.bart.gov/stations/ashb/index.aspx
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