Your favorite editor on his second-cousin-of-the-Harley scooter, saving gas and looking happy at Happy's.^
The old boy in the cap was selling Jesus. I didn't have any cash with me. (I assume the kids were from his madras.)^
Sam here says he's had his Mowhawk since 8th grade, two years, and they haven't thrown him out of school yet. The guy below got lost on his way to a tea party.^I've mentioned in the past that Happy's Flea Market in Northwest Roanoke is probably the most international spot in Western Virginia on any given pretty weekend. That was much in evidence yesterday with the sun bright, temperatures in the 80s and spirits high.
Happy's has become The Market if you're looking for Asian or Hispanic fresh foods and vegetables and in any 20-foot span of the entire huge parking lot, you're likely to hear 10 different languages or dialects--some a strange form of English spoken by our natives.
Happy's always brings out some of the most interesting of us, dressed in their finery--or not--smoking cigarettes that never seem to exit their lips until they've burned to within a millimeter of being dangerous; big pot bellies (and often hanging out exposed to the elements); mamas with babies on their hips; tall pretty women with short baggy-pantsed men; baby carriages with the right of way; people examining old tools, bluejeans and coin collections with equal intensity.
It's a marvelous example of our own human cavalcade.