The Antique Mall of Maumee, Ohio
07.26.06 By Collin David
What’s round on the ends and Republican in the middle? That’s right, Ohio. I spent the last week of my life buried neck-deep in the thick of it. The Little Caesars restaurant with the faded ‘Pizza Pizza!’ guy still proudly thrust atop the roof despite his total obsolescence, the deeply-sunk stadium in Toledo, and the endless expanse of I-80 during the 9.5 hour drive there. One of the highlights of this fabled Ohio trip was the Maumee Antique Mall. Such a mall might be commonplace in the midwest, just outside of my range of usual travel, but it was a beautiful and new experience for me. Being an avid connoisseur of junk is not an easy life to live.
Imagine your average indoor flea market, rife with obscure goodies and trinkets in every expansive corner. Ceramic owls, old clocks and dinner trays, more than a few over-loved baby dolls. Double it in size. Now, eliminate the hungry-eyed dealers trying to talk you into a sale and replace them with neat little labels on everything. This is the Maumee Antique Mall. You come, you’re greeted by life-sized replicas of subservient old people at the door, you browse the booths of items that vendors have entrusted to the watchful eye of the mall owners (and security cameras), you select your wares and you bring them up to the front counter. What it lacks in haggling it makes up for in the no-pressure sales approach, which usually makes me sweaty and irritable, like Taco Bell cuisine.
I spent my time there poking through bin after bin of my favorite quarry, LPs, attracted to those things with men in leiderhosen or semi-nude women on the covers, and anything that used the phrase ‘hi-fi’ as if it were going to change life as we know it. For one dollar each, I purchased 13 various records in differing states of completeness and disrepair, under the philosophy that you can’t really lose for a dollar. Collecting these unwanted LPs is always an experiment in mining for the rare gold that’s been forgotten for whatever reason. It’s likely that these albums have been sifted and resifted through until there’s nothing left of any monetary value, but I could care less. I’m the guy with the medschool 45s of the sounds of heartbeats on the bookshelf.
While I was seriously tempted by a set of four Search for Spock glasses, I abstained. Who can say that they’ve never wanted to drink a cool glass of Pepsi from the angry face of a Klingon? Productive members of society, that’s who. Instead, I unearthed an original ‘Portrait of Bobby’ LP, and admittedly, I’m too young and too heterosexual to know exactly what I’d found. Later research indicated that I was looking at a Bobby Sherman, bubblegum pop star. The record didn’t indicate this in any way, but I presume that this was simply a staple for any young girl’s record collection in the early 70s, and in being so, defied the need for any explanation. I just liked his tight little purple pants and obviously radiating charm, and so did my six-year old niece. We know where it’s at. She didn’t dig the leiderhosen squad quite so much. Even if they WERE yodeling my ‘favorite German melodies’. Man, there are so many! I hope they didn’t leave any out! It’s at this point where I don’t really care what’s on the album itself - the cover is enough to delight.
I was ridiculed for my decision to vacation in Ohio, which many of my friends saw as a place to vacation as far away from as possible and not venture towards, but as long as there’s the Maumee Antique Mall, satisfying our need for all things owl-themed or inscribed into musical discs, I’m set.
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Article Tags: , Antique Mall, Bobby Sherman, I-80, lps, Maumee, Ohio================
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