Schlepping and Small Town Politics

This weekend entailed a great deal of schlepping. I don't know if anyone out there has any idea what it's like to lug around and set up a 10x10 tent, then stuff it full of your wares to sell, but let me assure you, a picnic it ain't.

Saturday, I was at the Covered Bridge Celebration, an event I normally enjoy doing. It's in a nice field by the covered bridge in Grays River, Wash. There are two huge trees in the middle of the "courtyard," providing lots of shade for those who want to lounge around and listen to the music or just relax. Last year there were antique car races, and tractor races, which were a total howl, and really added to the character of the event.

Well, there I sat, after setting up the tent on dirt (what can only be called) tussocks. Wrestling the tent into submission, and almost losing, would be more accurate. The "parade" came through the covered bridge and onto the field. I would have missed it entirely if not for the noise of the tractors, as there was no band.

I waited in vain for the promised Model T races and the tractor races. No sign of either one. It was all very quiet and puzzling. Too quiet. Bands played on a little stage, everyone ignored them. All in all, it was a strange vibe, not to mention a weird sales day.

The next day I was slated to do the Sunday Market. What the hell is happening there? There are fewer and fewer vendors every time I go. Could it be they are wising up? The tents are all moved around, using two tents to fill three spaces. The vendors I've spoken to are not happy campers.

Oh I know, you hear all of these vendors praising the market to the skies, and read their letters to the editor saying everything is just Pollyanna peachy, but guess what - they are in the minority, not the majority.

Most vendors will not speak out publicly because they fear retaliation. So we huddle and chat amongst ourselves. The fact of the matter is that there is no vendor input in the market. It is a fiefdom run by the Comperes, and they do not answer to anyone except their board of directors, who let them do anything they want.

I hear of differing rates of pay, but the minimum they receive is $71K for managing the market per year. Which is insane. Hell, I'll do it for $30K. But apparently money isn't an issue for the political "in" crowd.

The vendors who still are actually showing up are desultory. I'm usually fairly cheerful, but even I was feeling depressed because they put me right next to someone who was selling damn near the same thing as I was. I mean, what's with that? It's just thoughtless, and, dare I say it? Disrespectful. To me as a vendor, and to the other vendor, as well.

The most interesting thing that happened on Sunday was that I got an explanation of the quietude at the covered bridge celebration from a Grays River local. It seems that the guys who race the old Model T's and the tractors have a bone to pick with the bridge preservation group, who run the event, and who have become a power to reckon with in the town. Apparently the group has stepped on toes, and the drivers were boycotting to express their displeasure.

We hapless vendors get caught unwittingly in the small town political hornets' nests. The only thing you can do is duck, run and hope to hell they don't swarm.