Announcement from George Merrill of Old Goat:
Orcas Swap Meet Saturday, maybe Sunday. Hosted By Joe Segault. Starts at 12 PM, till the cows come home. Sequel parking lot. Lemonade, hotdogs, friends, fun. Americana at its finest hour. No charge for people with wares to sell, barter, trade.
Please enjoy my song.
Orcas Swap Meet (Old Sears Lot)
Verse 1
Down at the old Sears building, Sequel parking lot,
Saturday morning if the fog don’t rot.
Bring your stuff to sell and your cash to buy,
Tag it “make an offer” and don’t ask why.
Tea cups lined like geese in a row,
Thermos of coffee and a thermos of “whoa,”
Kid with a kazoo, dog on a rope,
Everybody trading nickels and hope.
Chorus
Swap me a story, I’ll toss in a smile,
Two bucks a memory, three for the pile.
If you don’t have Venmo, that’s perfectly fine—
Cash in a mason jar works every time.
Come Saturday sure, maybe Sunday too,
If the sun sticks around and the clouds behave true.
Verse 2
There’s a jar of buttons, a bucket of screws,
A box of LPs that still sing the blues.
Rusty old plane that still kisses wood,
Granddad’s hammer that remembers good.
Frames without pictures, pictures without frames,
Cast-iron skillets with secret names.
A rocking chair with a squeak like a hymn,
Ten bucks firm, unless you know Jim.
Chorus
Swap me a story, I’ll toss in a smile,
Two bucks a memory, three for the pile.
If you don’t have Venmo, that’s perfectly fine—
Cash in a mason jar works every time.
Come Saturday sure, maybe Sunday too,
If the breeze keeps gentle and the sellers pull through.
Verse 3
Old Goat’s table with a cedar slab,
Says “not Ikea, but it’s got some gab.”
Lady with jam from a backyard vine,
Says “taste the July, it goes good with time.”
A fisherman’s knife, a chipped blue plate,
A poem on cardboard that reads “don’t wait.”
Ferry horn moans like a secondhand tune,
Price drops steady by late afternoon.
Bridge
I sold a stool I carved last fall,
Bought back a picture from my own back wall.
Traded a story for a hand-me-down hat—
Funny how the island keeps giving like that.
We fix the world with twine and tape,
Shake on a deal and let goodwill shape.
Verse 4
Laura’s got quilts, Frank’s got a grin,
Says “blueberries free if you promise to win.”
Kids build forts from cardboard dreams,
Dogs lick faces, folks lick ice-cream.
Sun slips low on a pocketknife blade,
Somebody strums what the Seventies made.
“See you tomorrow if the weather ain’t mean,”
Same lot, same love, same small-town scene.
Final Chorus
Swap me a story, I’ll toss in a smile,
Two bucks a memory, three for the pile.
If you don’t have Venmo, that’s perfectly fine—
Cash in a mason jar works every time.
Come Saturday sure, maybe Sunday too—
Mother Orcas gives the change, but she keeps me and you.
George, methinks you are the island’s next writer, poet, and songweaver…
Nice!