Flea Market Fiasco!

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Recently I mentioned to Dinosaur Dracula that I had never been to the Englishtown Flea Market. For some reason, I’ve been to every other damn flea market in existence, but not Englishtown. Lived in Jersey my entire life, never been. To others from around here, that’s not an outrage or an insult or anything, but it’s more like “you’ve breathed in air before, right?” I felt that 2014 was the time to finally make this trip happen.

The flea market is not far away and I always heard friends mention that they tend to find cool stuff there, so I really had no justification for never going there. Who better to join me on my first visit to this place than Dino Drac? Partners in crime is really an appropriate moniker for all the calamity and misadventures we’ve inadvertently entangled ourselves in. Matt’s been there several times and he kept mentioning a pretty awesome vintage toy shop that he found in one of the buildings. That was literally all I needed to hear to get me to want to go.

Also encouraging me was the forecast, Saturday was going to be partly sunny and reach the low 50s. Since most of us in the Tri-State area have been cooped up at home for the last month or so battling all these ridiculous snow storms, it was about time that we had a nice sunny day that we could go outside and enjoy rather than breaking our backs shoveling snow and freezing our asses off. Parts of this flea market are indoors while many of the vendors are outdoors, so either way it was a win.

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Loose TMNT figures on a peg board at the Flea Market

Matt, Ms.X, and myself took a laid back drive down Route 9 as I sipped a Monster and we bullshitted. None of us knew what we could encounter on this day. The possibilities were endless. How many useless things would I come home with? I was feeling really confident that going to Englishtown was the right decision. It was the perfect thing to do on the first sunny and mild Saturday we had in forever. Spending it with good friends and having a few laughs was the right move. It’s almost like therapy after the mind numbing grind of a long work week. It all made sense…for a little while.

Finding parking is one aspect of my life that I don’t like to spend too much time on. I’m not sure it’s an actual pet peeve, but for instance, I have absolutely no time in my life to waste on searching for the perfect parking spot at a mall during the holidays. I’d just as soon park 2 miles away and walk. I was pleased to find that the parking scene at the Englishtown Flea Market wasn’t even bad at all. Considering there were two huge lots to park in, I didn’t have to stress about it.

The first lot was literally made of mud. The entire ground was all mud. I started into some My Cousin Vinny lines while we all made the conscious decision NOT to park in the lot that was all mud because my car might sink into the mud and we’d be stranded there. I pulled right out of there and drove into the adjacent lot which, oddly enough, only had about 7 cars in it. Fortunately, this lot wasn’t all mud, it was ALL ice and slush. Much of the ice and snow started melting in the past few days but we figured it would be wiser to park on ice and melted snow than…mud. I walked away with the positivity that we made a very clear headed decision that would benefit us in the long run.

Hopping over puddles and snow, into the flea market we went. At first, it reminded me of any other outdoor flea market. Lots of vendors, lots of similar crap. Discounted drinks in bulk. Women’s bags. Cheap fragrances. Insanely huge Rey Mysterio blankets. You know, all that kind of stuff. Flea Market stuff.

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Airbrushed Terminator T-Shirt and my personal fav: DOUG.
What’s a New Jersey Flea Market without an airbrush shop?

I knew not to really expect much from a flea market because they’re usually inundated with aisle after aisle of the same crap. As you walk through the rows of vendors you’ll notice every 3 of them offer bootleg action figures. You know them – the multi-pack where Batman looks like he’s a repainted Frankenstein and Superman has blue hair and a very scared look on his face. Then always right beside those are bootleg Marvel and Power Rangers figures.

Down each aisle we ventured to see the real garage sale type fare. These people offered the kind of items you might see at a local yard sale or out on the curb in your neighborhood. Piles of used clothes, old cassette tapes, old stereo equipment, random packs of gum, and that was all the high end shit. Down one of these aisles of doom is where I made my first of two purchases of the day.

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If you’ve had no luck trying to track down a high quality King Tut sweatshirt, 
Englishtown Auction is YOUR one stop shop! *Thank you to Sam for correcting me in the comments- I mistakenly referred to this as the Sphinx.

A couple of sellers had random piles of old records. If you know me, I need more records like I need a hole in my head, but for those who aren’t aware, I don’t need more music options at home. I’m inundated as it is. But to me, when it comes to vinyl, I completely grasp the sound differences, but it’s more about discovering a record I would enjoy in a big pile of them and then appreciating the front and back cover art, that’s what really grabs me. Out of piles from two different sellers, I found Blondie’s Parallel Lines and the Flashdance Soundtrack. Although I’ve never even seen Flashdance, it’s got a pretty legendary soundtrack and a great cover, so I went with it. A buck each!

The sun was beaming down and we were enjoying the day as we continued scanning each table. “Let’s check in one of these buildings to see if we can find that toy shop,” Matt said in a very Jay is probably going to write about this so I will make this sentence sound very generic sort of way. The interior definitely reminded me of the types of flea markets that I’ve been to in the past, so I was in familiar territory now. The giant drums of pickles, airbrushed t-shirts, the faint scent of leather, it was all present.

We couldn’t find the toy shop in the first building we went into, but the day was young. Matt and Mrs.X bought some fresh spicy nuts imported from TOMS RIVER, NJ, which I guess is the spicy nut capital of New Jersey. You’d think I would’ve known this tidbit, but I had no clue!

We stopped into a few decent shops, but couldn’t find the one Matt was describing to me.

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There was an action figure shop that had tons of wrestling figures, G.I Joe’s, and TMNT figures, so we were guided by the scent of old plastic and dust. This is where my second purchase comes in. Total impulse buy. At one time I owned every WWF Hasbro figure ever and eventually I sold them on eBay like a chump for no good reason. For a while now I had the original Macho Man Randy Savage back on my radar. This was not the Macho King or the later Macho Man release with the white jacket and hat – this was the original with the star trunks. $10. So worth it, wouldn’t you agree?

We did manage to find one shop that housed everything for your army/navy surplus needs all the way to a Ben Cooper style Jake Lloyd costume from Phantom Menace. There’s four dealers in the world who specialize in young Anakin collectibles and this guy must be one of them. This store looked like someone’s basement. 50 years worth of dusty junk packed into this tiny little store. Hanging from the ceiling and stuffed into shelves were a couple of TV trays that caught my eye. One was Batman Returns and the other was E.T. I can’t remember the exact price the guy quoted me for the used Batman Returns tray, but I believe he said he couldn’t accept less than $20 – $30 dollars because “these TV trays are really hot right now.”

At this point, I was almost happy that we didn’t find the toy shop yet because knowing me I would’ve found something that I desperately wanted for some exorbitant amount of money. The same moment that thought crossed my mind is the exact same moment Matt found the toy shop. He wasn’t joking, this place is the crown jewel of the Englishtown Auction. Matt and Ms.X had me close my eyes as I walked in. Opened them up and was immediately in awe.

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I spy a Jack Napier WANTED Poster hanging on the wall!

From a vintage Strawberry Shortcake bake shop to about 200 original Kenner Star Wars figures in varying degrees of condition, this place was definitely worth the trip. You’re not going to get yard sale prices here though, prices here basically mirror what’s on eBay. Nothing stood out for me specifically, but I think this is where Matt came into contact with his latest toy “adoptions” as it were. More on that in a bit.

Next, I needed to find a bathroom to pee out all the energy drink from earlier. We found one and I cautiously entered. I saw a bathroom greeter, the type of greeter you might see at a swank restaurant. Sometimes they hold the towel for you as you wash your hands. Well, this guy was the absolute greatest men’s room greeter OF ALL TIME. This was his schpeel word for word or as accurate as I can remember it: “WELCOME TO THE BATHROOM MY GOOD MAN, I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY, THIS BATHROOM IS VERY CLEAN AND SMELLS OF FINE, FRESH CITRUS FRUITS, IF YOU SO CHOOSE PLEASE LEAVE A SMALL TOKEN OF YOUR APPRECIATION AND YOU WILL BE GRANTED ONE WISH – THE CHOICE OF ANY CANDY OUT OF THE 8 RANDOM PIECES ON THIS MAGICAL PLATE THAT I FOUND OUTSIDE. PLEASE COME BACK AGAIN VERY SOON.”

On that note, we ended our stay at the Englishtown Flea Market. 
We headed back to the car. Happy with all our purchases we hopped in and I started up the car and the music. Only problem was, the wheels were spinning, but we weren’t moving. We were kicking up lots of mud and eventually it sunk into our heads that WE were also sunk…IN THE MUD. Underneath all the snow and slush was mud, just like that other lot. Who knew that we probably would’ve been better off parking in that other lot after all? 
Matt suggested that we use our records to wedge under the wheels to give the car some traction. It was a valiant effort. Him and I then used our incredible super powers to try to push the car out, but that didn’t work either. Ms.X wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty and she hacked away at large pieces of ice near the wheels. Luckily I had a shovel in the back of my car and I was trying to shovel us out, to no avail. There was no winning this battle. The wheels were sunken into the mud about halfway! Making matters worse, the front bumper of the car was hanging over one of those concrete stoppers that kept you from driving out onto the road. This cause the front of the car to basically snap off.
My only defense was calling road service. As I did that, a nice guy with a giant 4-wheel drive ORV with bullet holes the size of matzoh balls who looked like Lebron James offered to tie a rope to the back of my car and attempt to pull me out. This guy also helped several other cars that got stuck in the mud and slush as well. Thank you to that guy. I would say “if he’s reading this,” but there’s less than zero chance that he read The Sexy Armpit. This guy saved us from sacrificing those records!

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We needed to get on the road so this day didn’t start to deteriorate even more rapidly. With some parts of the undercarriage dangling onto the road we hightailed it out of there. After a few miles, Ms.X and I saw a Mexican place on route 9 that reminded us of Jose Tejas. Formerly Damon’s Grill, this place took on a Mexican gimmick back in October. I’d been interested in going there, but haven’t had the chance. As we came upon it, I abruptly made an executive decision and turned into the parking lot. We needed some Mexican beer, Patron, Mexican food, and of course, guacamole power – in that order. It saved the day…for a little while. Name of the place is Rosalita’s Roadside Cantina in Manalapan, NJ if you’re ever in the area or want to replicate this debacle of a trip.

Thanks to Matt and Ms.X for all their help and their patience. We were all soaked and full of mud, but they persevered! Once we got home, I brought down the mood once again by losing an eBay auction on an item that I wanted more than you can imagine for the better part of my life. What a day! Thank God Miss Sexy Armpit brought snacks.

*I urge you to read about Matt’s finds from this experience. Being the benevolent guy he is, he found “5 Misfit Toys” that needed a home, and he paid the adoption fees and signed all the paper work so he could give them a good home. READ ALL ABOUT IT AT THIS LINK OVER AT DINOSAUR DRACULA!!

Sprung Through Cages Out On Highway 9

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Bruce Springsteen didn’t just pull a random New Jersey road out of the back pocket of his jeans to name drop in “Born to Run.” Much like the escalator in Kevin Smith’s Mallrats, Route 9 should be feared and respected. Not only is the road filled with potholes in many stretches of it’s Garden State sprawl, but it’s also known for it’s fast, furious, and f-cked up drivers. If you have the choice, you’re better off staying away and re-routing your GPS. And whatever you do, don’t walk on the side of the highway, or as Dr. Evazan said in the cantina scene in Star Wars… “You’ll be DEAD!” Or to one up myself…as Admiral Bruce Ackbarsteen said “It’s a DEATH TRAP!”

This article from Jackson NJ Online News featured a report on New Jersey’s Most Dangerous Roads for Pedestrians. If you live in Jersey, reading this information is vital to your survival! Route 9 comes in at number 2 on the list, but then again, Bruce Springsteen didn’t mention US-130 in one of his immortal songs now did he?

Night Walk

I went for a long walk downtown on Saturday night. It was a pretty nice night out considering how hot it was in the daytime. I figured I’d walk to the Quick Check to see if they had the new Monster Energy Coffee drink that I wanted to try. I began my trip with a glance at the New York City skyline. Far in the distance it glows like a majestic Oz. New York is no Oz, and neither is where I‘m about to go. As I walked down Main Street I thought about how I used to want to move out to California and live in San Diego. In fact, it didn’t seem like an option, I was set on moving once I finished college. Some of my friends always said they wanted to pack up and just move the hell out of here. I never thought of moving away to a different state as an escape, I felt there would be more job opportunities there. I never felt like I needed to “get out of this damn town.” I believed that it was pretty lame to stay in the same place my whole life. I never wanted to be “that guy.” You know, the middle aged guy who works jobs around town gathering shopping carts at the store and cutting grass all while reminiscing with the people in town about the old days. That same guy could tell you every one of his teachers names from High School and the score to every football game he played in. Or possibly a more realistic scenario, he wears a Metallica T-shirt and can tell you the in-s and outs of his Pontiac Firebird that he bought junior year of high school that he still drives. Thankfully, I’m not them but it is scary to think that it’s possible to become that way. Is it because they get trapped in their hometown forever? I don’t think so because I know many people who have strong familial ties to the town and the surrounding towns. My family isn’t from this town, in fact they’ve collectively lived in so many different towns that I can’t keep track. I thought about how time passed and that money and a realistic career kept me from ever moving so far away. I don’t feel that making the decision to not move away has made me any worse off though.

As I made my way under the route 9 overpass I noticed how much garbage decorated the dirt sidewalk. I thought “Why do we even have stretches of dirt sidewalk in a town with 100,000 people in it?” I quickly forgot about the garbage on the ground. Some low hanging tree branches presented my face with the always annoying spider web, and another, and even one more a few hundred feet further to get me pissed just enough. With the spider webs and the humidity I feel like I need to take 17 showers at this point.

I think I live in the only town that has convenience stores every 300 feet. 7-11didn’t have the drink I wanted so I moved along. The stores and restaraunts were closed and it seemed like a ghost town except for the cars. I looked into the windows of some of the places in the center of town and wondered “How do some of these places stay in business?” I rarely see anyone ever going into some of them. Next stop was Quick Check and again, no luck with the Monster coffee. I kept walking and noticed two Latina ladies passing me on the left. One of the girls said quietly “Hiii Papi” in a friendly fashion. I was surprised because I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me and inside, I was laughing. I walked about 200 feet away this time and stopped into, YES, ANOTHER QUICK CHECK! No luck again. I’m not kidding here people, there ARE that many convenience stores in our area. Watch the tram car please, Next Stop: Walgreen’s open til’ midnight! No Monster Coffee beverage. Bummer.

My journey was unsuccessful and it was time to make my way back home. I walked back down Main Street as a tall guy passed me on the right. He nodded his head and said “What’s up?” in a pretty upbeat manner. I said “what’s up” back and kept on my way. Shitty me was about to ignore him. It was an oddly good feeling to have people say hello to me at 11:30 at night when the streets are pretty empty. The idea I have when walking the streets aimlessly at night (or at any time or place for that matter) is that this person is going to mug me so please walk past me as quickly as possible. Does their friendliness make me feel like things are “getting better in the world?” Not really judging by the garbage all over the ground and that there are psychos that decide to shoot people like at Virginia Tech. Life isn’t so peachy keen, but for that hour and a half that I was walking the streets on a cool but humid night, I felt like things were good and it was my town. I felt like throwing a party in the middle of main street. This vibe of positivity didn’t end there. Not 2 minutes after the tall guy said what’s up to me the cars in the street stopped for a red light at the intersection. “YO JAY!” I heard a guys voice yell from a car that was waiting at the light. An old friend from high school recognized me and we started talking a bit. He asked if I needed a ride. I definitely looked like I was homeless or something. You can’t walk around late at night in cargo shorts and a Hanes T-shirt anymore and have people NOT think you are homeless. It’s a crime! I told him I was actually intentionally out walking and enjoying the night. He was telling me how he had National Guard duty early the next morning. We ended the conversation and I continued home. It crossed my mind how different it is walking through Times Square than where I just was. There was no hustle and bustle, no horns honking, no nasty odors, but I did have 3 people say hello to me. There were no flashy lights which I do enjoy, but I didn’t have someone hastling me for money or standing on a bucket preaching their good word to me. That’s pretty damn good if you ask me. I was able to take a leisurely stroll with no worries. I’m sure I’d be able to do that in say, San Diego, or Orlando, or anywhere else for that matter, but why? I’m already here. I’ve always been here. And, there’s like 6 convenience stores within walking distance! Let’s face it maybe I was embellishing but I in no way feel like shouting “I love this town!” like Ernie Hudson did in Ghostbusters, but I guess it’s a pretty damn good place.