“So Let Us Not Talk Falsely Now, The Hour Is Getting Late”

Published October 20, 2013 by Larry Fisher

(While reading this, put on Hendrix’s version of “All Along The Watchtower for a gonzo journalist feel)


The  Vendors from P.S. 321 who were displaced when Brooklyn Flea took over that location a couple of weeks ago have started a new flea market in South Slope between 4th and 5th avenue and 20th Street.

Yesterday, was our first day and it was rough. People still  don’t know we are there and this is my message in a bottle to let people know, the old dinosaurs of  Park Slope Flea are treading water, trying desperately to keep our head above the sewage.  This is my S.O.S. before I have to leave again today to flyer and make the new location work before the dreaded winter comes.

Many of the Vendors   are the bohemians who have been selling in this city for a quarter of a Century. We started selling because we loved counter culture music and books, and then we had too many  and so we started selling it, in order to acquire more of it, till the rents got too high,  and then we started selling all of it just in order to survive.

We have been pushed out from many locations throughout the city. We made our way in the East Village in the eighties, we got pushed out. We moved to different parts of Brooklyn in the nineties and the aught decade  and again have pushed out. We are the Scouts for the real estate folks after all. We come in make a” Happening” and then Real Estate folks come in and push us out. That is the deal.

Well Mr. Landlord, I am here to tell you the new location you will be pushing us out in is South Slope. Here, you will find the Millennial Kids who want to learn about Bohemia past, the hippie reject Vendors, the aging Punk Rocker, and the rest of the dinosaur New Yorkers who just are trying to survive in their own city.

The new Flea Market is conveniently located right next to a slaughterhouse, so if you want an artisan chicken without a head, that  is running around, you can get it along with the cool 1950’s end table.

The Millennial kids in this part of town are great. They love records, and cool objects and great pieces of furniture for cheap. This market is going to make it big, if we can get the message out there, that we exist.

As a nation, one great thing we have been able to offer the world is our pop culture past. It is filled with humor and fun things and “The South Slope Flea Market,”  also known as “The Slaughterhouse is going to bring it.

Help us bring it. We need you to come out, or just send me money, and I will send something cool to you. The more you spend the cooler the item. I got kids to feed and landlords to feed as well.

Journalists, this is your lucky day. I am not even the funniest of the people who sell at the Flea. Two people were used in “Seinfeld.” Paul the Manager of South Slope, was one of the characters who is the basis for Kramer. You don’t believe me, come on by and I will introduce you to him.

We are a funny quirky group, and media attention is a no brainer. We can even write most of the articles for you. We all have angles… there are many, many angles to this story. We are like a Bermuda Triangle of angles… and we can lie and make ones up as well.

Tell people we exist, for a little while longer anyway. Even if you don’t buy anything, let me show you the slaughterhouse.

again 20th street between 4th and 5th Avenue…


“There must be some kind of way out of here,”
Said the joker to the thief,
“There’s too much confusion,
I can’t get no relief.
Businessman they drink my wine,
Plowman dig my earth
None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey”

“No reason to get excited,”
The thief, he kindly spoke
“There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we’ve been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late”

All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants, too

Outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl
*buisness man there, drink my wine,
Come and take my herb.


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