I got an email this morning asking me if I'd be interested in vending there on weekends from the market manager. They'll be running Saturdays and Sundays from May to October, starting late enough for plenty of time to get up there and set up without getting up at 4 a.m.
The manager had some pretty compelling statistics ... Astoria gets only 3,000 passing through on a regular market day (I think that's a very high estimate), whereas Aberdeen gets an average of 17,000, minimum, as people pass through on their way to the northern beaches. And of course, the Grays Harbor market will be right on US 101.
All of which made me ponder the Astoria Sunday Market once more. Why do I even do it? Aside from the fact that it's conveniently located for me, that is.
There's little foot traffic, there's favoritism on the part of market management (ask any vendor who hasn't puckered up to kiss ass about that one), there are too many vendors for such a small amount of consumer traffic, and the vendors have absolutely no say in what goes on, since its a monarchy. I mean, where's the plus side, aside from convenience?
Last year I had high hopes for the Longview, Wash. Saturday market. No soap. They had a great location, but they forgot one essential detail ... they didn't advertise, so nobody had a friggin' clue they even existed. One Saturday in August, I was driving through Longview, and was there even ONE stinking sign saying there was a market and how to get to it? You'd think the city would have sprung for one billboard or something. Nope. Nada. Forget it.
The market in Ilwaco, Wash., is run by a wonderful lady, Sharon Saunders, who actually cares about her vendors (a small miracle, right there). But the disadvantage is that the market is directly on the waterfront and subject to whatever happens to blow in off the Pacific Ocean. Which could be one, or several, squalls a day, and there's no protection for the vendors' tents or merchandise. I've already had one tent torqued beyond help over there.
So hello, Aberdeen, I'll give it a shot. At least people passing through can't miss the damn thing, and it's not right on the water.