Aisles of Plenty

 

I find there's something bittersweet about walking through an antiques mall. The initial sense of wonder from seeing shelves of artifacts from long ago changes over time, becoming more melancholy as you go from booth to booth as the effect of taking in the detritus of people's lives accumulates. I had this feeling as I made my way through the Ohio Valley Antique Mall a few years ago. It's the kind of place where time gets tangled. One stall looks like an old garage from a Stephen King novel, while the next looks like a rec room from 1979.

For example, there was a boxed Six Million Dollar Man board game, still in pretty good condition, with its1970s pulp artwork, stacked next to a wooden doll in a hand-knit bonnet. Below it, Candyland, Chutes and Ladders, and some long-forgotten off-brand cousin to Monopoly. These weren't just games — they were Saturday afternoons and school holidays, and arguments over who got to be the thimble. Anyone who has given away toys or clothes that their children have outgrown will know that it's not as easily done as you may think. Although, having said that, knowing how lousy these movie tie-in games usually were, perhaps it wasn't that difficult to get rid of Lee Majors.

 

Moving forward to the 80s there were the Cabbage Patch Kids — still in their boxes, their adoption papers intact, staring out from behind crinkled plastic like they were waiting for a second chance.  Seeing them again in their cardboard cradles, decades later, made me wonder whose childhoods they were meant for, and why they ended up here.

 

But the most memorable corner of the place was a little nook marked Conspiracy Corner Books. Tucked between a Pyrex shelf and a rack of vintage buttons was an entire stall devoted to second-hand paperbacks with titles like Predator, Cop Killers, The Grim Reapers, Gotti: Rise and Fall, and Who Will Cry for Stacey?. A whole pulpy archive of True Crime, Mafia exposés, satanic panic, and the kind of UFO speculation that used to dominate late-night AM radio in the US.

 

I don't mean to make fun of this. Apart from anything else, the title of the store, along with how it was organised (the only book store I've been in that had a shelf for "Ancient Astronauts") makes me think that it was a bit tongue in cheek. 

 

If you're wondering, I didn’t buy much that day. An ornamental horse which is standing in my bookshelf and which has survived one house move and several spring cleanings. Which says something I suppose. Oh, and a promo red vinyl copy of Introducing Sparks. Not their best. I can see why someone felt they could part with it.