The Show at Market Hall

Last Weekend’s show at Market Hall was interesting as it was also billed as a Knife Show and  manufacturers like Spyderco had booths.

When we went to set up on Friday we learned that one of the guys we usually set up near at the Lone Star Fort Worth Show had his home and poultry business destroyed a week earlier.

Lots of folks doing these shows are hard working people living very close to the edge when it comes to surviving.

We had a flood just before Christmas and are still waiting for the house to be repaired.

A lot of the folks working the gun shows and who come to the shows nearly every week are like a community. We help each other and worry about each other. Knowing who we will set up next to at particular shows can make the difference between looking forward to a particular show or dreading it.

For the Market Hall Show we set up next to a really nice couple who run Lone Star Knife Makers Supply.  For this show we had a knife dealer who does sharpening set up across from us in what we’ve come to think of as Gary’s spot.

Now Gary is an interesting older man, who plays trumpet and generally bugs the hell out of some people who take things way too seriously.  He’s been very ill and we have worried about him.  We said as much.  On Saturday one of the people from the show came by and filled us in telling us he was feeling much better and would be coming back in June.

I’ve been selling off my guitars.  In hard times the toys have to go to keep our lives together, hierarchy of needs and all that.  I play guitar for pleasure not for pay and like cameras and other toys, guitars come and go.  When things are going good I have one, in tight times they are an investment I can usually get my money back on.

I sold my Martin OMM.  I had several people interested but I wound up selling it to the man who runs Sooner State Knives.  He is a quiet man, not as loud and gregarious as many who work the show. I never thought of him as being all that friendly to me.

But he came by our table, looked at the instrument, asked if he could play it, saying, “I’m no Chet Atkins.”

I could tell he wanted the instrument.  I thought about it and I realized that he would probably give it a good home and enjoy playing it, whereas many of the other folks who looked at it would probably just resell it.  That made me want to sell it to him.

He gave me what I needed and I got a knife to sell to make up the rest of what the guitar cost me plus I feel I got to know him a little better and that felt most important of all.



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