Atomic Clock at Todd Farm Flea Market

It was near dawn on what would be a sunny autumn Sunday. The sign at the edge of the gravel lane read Todd Farm Flea Market. Yes, we have arrived. We turned in and then onto a frost covered field that was serving as a makeshift parking lot.  The sun was just coming up over the trees but the place was already buzzing with activity.

Dealers, peddlers and con-men were setting up their tables and blankets on the frosty lawn to show off and offer their goods.  As the air warmed we slid into the action by walking up and down all the lanes looking over all the brick-a-brac, vintage clothes, new and old furniture, records, radios and all the junk you could ever imagine.  There seemed to be about 200 hundred flea market vendors here.  Any treasure? Yes, I was stopped by a twinkle of light that bounced off of a very radical looking desk clock that apparently had been living in limbo, outer space, or in a box in an attic since the early 1950’s. It was in nearly mint condition.  As the saying goes, it spoke to me. I had to have it.  I sized up the peddler; boots, jeans, a very faded navy and red flannel shirt over a dirty white sweatshirt, topped off with a Red Sox baseball cap. “How much for the clock” I ask.

After waiting what felt like days for him to respond he spoke…”fifteen dollars”

I looked away then down then back at him. “Would you take five?” I asked.  I wait for his response.  Again, I suffer another long silence.  “Seven, I’ll take seven.” I count out seven one dollar bills as he gently puts my new treasure into a re-cycled grocery bag.  I smile, thank him and slip back into the crowd with my Atomic / "The Jetsons" style clock and I'm still smiling.

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