The Road to Happy Days

Paul and I were in need of a large dose of 'uppers.' By sheer luck, our fix was delivered to us each week in the form of a classified-ad paper, known as "The Penny Saver." The Big City, with all of its cultural attractions, could not compete with the magical allure of our new-found addiction ... garage sales! Though it took us a while to realize it, our biggest fix turned out to be right in ouir own back yard. No more than ten miles down the road, shining bigger and brighter than any combination of garage sales, was the antique junkie`s "Shangr-La" ...the "110 Flea Market!" Sundays mornings (and Wednesdays too), hundreds of dealers, from up and down the coast, drove onto this empty field and filled it with tables laden with the stuff of collectors` dreams ... antique typewriters, Nazi uniforms, Boy Scout badges, Victorian jewelry, unused Hopalong Cassidy coloring books, tin windup toys ... if they made it, you might find it! The array of available collectibles entrapped us. We were hooked!