Sunday afternoon. I’m driving to Altamont with four framed photographs in my car. I’ve taken care of every possible scenario. All the pictures are framed and wired up and ready. I’ve selected my best photos. And I’m arriving as early as possible, so that I can park near the Art Center and unload my pictures in plenty of time.
As I pulled up to the intersection from US Route 20 and made that left turn toward Altamont, I thought about what this journey meant to me. Five years ago, I could never have taken pictures like this. All I need to do now is drop these off, and everything will be fine. I’ve paid the entry fees, I’ve got the 3×5 index cards on the back of each photo –
Wait. Where’s the 3×5 index cards?
Oh crumbs. They’re home. I forgot to tape the index cards – which contain each artwork’s name, my phone number, and a price for sale – to the backs of the artworks. Without the cards, I can’t enter the pictures.
At that point in time, I had three choices. I could:
(A) detour to the nearest office supply store and buy a deck of index cards.
(B) find some scraps of paper in the trunk of the Blackbird and scribble the information on each card.
(C) bring the artwork in and hope that nobody notices that I neglected to follow the rules. Technicality, meet rejection.
And at that moment, before I could choose Option D – whatever Option D might be –
I passed a two-family yard sale that was set up near the old Getty gas station.
That’s a sign. No, not the fact that gasoline was $3.75/gallon.
My Grandma Betty – God rest her soul – loved yard sales and flea markets. She could find all sorts of treasures in whatever someone might sell from their front lawns. So I parked the Blackbird, and walked over to inspect the front lawn wares. And as I looked over the various books and plates and clothes at the Sunday yard sale… I saw something I needed.
No, it wasn’t the index cards. It was an Orville Redenbacher hot-air-popcorn machine, fresh and new and still inside its box.
Can’t believe it. Three years living on Green Island and I never thought to get a popcorn popper.
“How much?” I asked the woman in charge of the sale.
“Five dollars.”
“Does it work?”
“Yep. Brand new, never opened, I bought it at Kohl’s Department Store and just never used it.”
Well, I do like popcorn… $5 later, I carried the popcorn machine back to my car. And then, just on a hunch, I asked… “By chance, do any of you have some 3×5 index cards I can use? I need at least four of them.”
“I do,” said one of the sellers. Five minutes later, she brought a small deck of white index cards and handed them to me. “They’re college ruled, I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Why do you need them?”
I explained that the cards were for my photo entries for the Altamont Fair. They wished me luck, and thanked me for stopping at their sale.
I continued my journey toward the Altamont Fair. Arriving at the Fair’s Art Center in plenty of time, I quickly wrote down all the pertinent information for each artwork on the back of each index card – and, a few minutes later, the pictures went from my car to the Art Center.
I could only carry three of the four artworks at one time; the fourth one was pretty heavy and I had to return to the Blackbird to retrieve it. Couldn’t carry four artworks in my hands in one fell swoop. Especially since one of the artworks is pretty freakin’ big.
As I brought the final picture to the receiving table, I heard someone shout, “Chuck Miller!”
Okay, what did I do and who snitched on me?
“You’re Chuck Miller!”
Okay… I hope I didn’t park illegally or something.
“I enjoy reading your blog!”
It was someone in the receiving line, a set of framed photos in her hands. “Thank you,” I smiled. “I hope you enjoy the blog.”
“I do,” she said. “I don’t comment, I’m more of a lurker.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “As long as you’re enjoying the blog, that’s the most important thing.”
Everything checked in. I watched as the interns carefully hung each piece on the Art Center walls. I know they’re going to move the pieces around from one area to the next, in order to accommodate all the wonderful submissions… but I just needed some peace of mind, knowing that the artworks were on the walls. I then went over to the Fair’s front office and picked up my complimentary admission tickets – as well as a couple of extra tickets, just in case – and headed home.
And as I drove past that yard sale again, I thought about the popcorn popper that I just bought – and how, if my Grandma Betty didn’t stop at every flea market, tag sale, yard sale and garage sale in the greater Boston area, I might not have acquired those emergency index cards.
That’s proof in my mind that she’s always looking out for me. And that truly makes me happy.
And you know… I’ll be thinking of her any time I make popcorn out of my new hot air popper.
Chuck The Writer 
Grandma Betty earned her wings years ago. I don’t think she’s ever far from your side. 🙂
Good luck with the pictures, I’m eagerly awaiting the results!
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Great story, Chuck! Our parents & grandparents DO keep an eye on us! Tomorrow would have been my mom’s 98th birthday & I feel her presence all the time.
My dad was the one who could never pass by a garage sale, flea market etc. He was a packrat vs. hoarder. Still remember the time he paid $2 for an old truck tire, brought it to a tire place. They paid him >$300 for the tire–when that was a lot of money! They never discard tires like that–retread & reuse them–too valuable to throw away until they cant be reused.
Look forward to seeing your pics at the State Fair if, depending on the availability of computers at Time Warner’s display, I may have to wait till we return after Labor Day to comment!
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