5 Suggestions for Craft Show Designated Sales Killers, er, Shoppers

Getting Ready for the Visitors

Don't you just love craft shows and street markets? To me, discovering new creative talent in your area and developing a relationship with local produce growers helps to enlarge your sense of community. But I do wonder if you ever think how every purchase you make is helping that local family earn a living?

Even small crafters who decide they are ready to sell their handcrafted items hope to either add a little income to the family coffers or, at least, to recoup the cost of supplies. You will seldom find poorly handmade items at a craft fair. (Unlike a Flea Market with a full spectrum of items from used to the latest neon bracelets.) What you will find is pride of workmanship and fair prices for truly unique items.

But, there's a down side to these open-air markets, too. The simple act of walking through so many booths and getting to know the regular vendors can create a subtle change in the shoppers. It's somewhere along the lines of 'you're never a prophet in your own home town' thinking -- behavior that almost never occurs in a bricks-and-mortar store with bar code pricing on every item. People who don't think twice about buying an item as-is off the shelf have no problem finding fault at a crafter's booth where meticulous care has been given to ensure quality workmanship for the buyer.

I've exhibited throughout the years at many different venues, so I think I can speak from not only my experience but that of my fellow crafters when wondering why some people seem to go out of their way to make remarks that will kill any sales for that vendor. Even though it's not a bricks-and-mortar building, a craft/food booth is, in fact, a business. The items may be limited to a particular craft; i.e., candles, handbags, pet products, etc., but great care has been given to making and/or selecting the best quality and ingredients. These are not people who have decided to have a fundraiser, accepting all donated hand-crafted items regardless of skill but businesses that require quality inventory for year-in year-out showings and sales. Just like their big brother department stores, this is how the vendor makes money and pays for the space, licenses, and taxes, to stay in business. For what it's worth, here are some suggestions for visitors/shoppers when at a craft show or street market.

Please wear your Designated Sale Killer button for identification when:

1. Stopping your friend from buying what they want.

When your friend picks up an item, it's because they're interested. Let them decide whether to buy it or not. This isn't about what you like; it's what they want. If you really don't like the item, take them away from the booth before you start tearing it down. More importantly, if you have not been specifically asked to prevent them from spending their money, don't kill the crafters potential sale because you're not interested.

2. Dismissing the item because you've seen a pattern and can make it, yourself.

We are a nation of crafters. It's in our nature to create beautiful things out of nothing. And, we like to try our hand at different crafts. The majority of craft fair boards have a creative standard that must be met before vendors are accepted as exhibitors. Please don't pick up an item and tell your friend not to bother with it because you or she can make it, at home. There's no doubt you probably could; but, chances are, you won't. It takes time, money, inventory, and dedication to bring a product to the sales table, and most home-made items won't match up to the crafter who does it for a living.  

3. Turning a swan into a duck (Not that there's anything wrong with ducks...)

There is nothing new under the sun -- only variations of all that has gone before. Please don't pick up an item that reminds you of something and diminish it in front of the crafter by saying, "oh, yeah, we did that at Camp" or "I've seen this done with styrofoam and cardboard tissue rolls."  You probably did something close to it in a very limited way with the cheapest possible supplies. The crafter has chosen materials to create a quality item and doesn't deserve your offhanded put down. Of course, if you did do it exactly the same way as the crafter, that's one thing; but, if it isn't, try to think before you speak. Someone else may be listening to you and decide not to buy the product because you've reduced it to child's play.

4. Expecting commercial packaging for handcrafted items. 

You're at a craft fair of handmade items; you're not in Macy's. Commercial packaging isn't cheap and the cost would have to be added to the sales price. Handcrafters produce items that cannot be found all over the country in department stores, unless it turns into something phenomenal like a Pet Rock and demand goes sky high. You will find some crafters who often create unique tags and packaging for their items; but, it's not the general rule. Accept the item in its plastic or brown bag or pay for that special packaging, if it's available -- but, don't expect to get it for nothing. 

5. Monopolizing a vendor friend.

While you may be out enjoying your day at the local Craft Fair or Farmer's Market, please keep in mind that, if your friend happens to be a vendor at same, they are at work. It's wonderful to stop by and say hello but don't monopolize, hang out, or, use the vendor's tables for your own personal items. Customers don't like to interrupt conversations or enter booths they feel have become 'private' and will leave for more open shops. This is also not the time to be making smart-alecky remarks about any of your friend's crafts to customers, like, "oh, I see you've made use of your mother's old chenille bedspread," thinking you're being funny. 

When setting up and breaking down, the vendors talk to each other and, of course, what happened during the day gets discussed. These were the most frequent problems they encountered and wished someone would say something. I don't believe any of the above behavior is done with the thought of killing someone's sale but, unfortunately, the end result is the same. Craft fair behavior is nothing more than common sense and, "Do Unto Others..."  Give vendors the same respect you would expect and make it a successful day for everyone. 

Big Brother and Hair Police Mean Business on Lee-Jackson Day 1984

This is me in my new used 454 Chevrolet truck (with camper) on Lee-Jackson Day.

It is January 15, 1984, on a cold and icy road.

I am returning from having dropped off my daughter at her high school.

She missed the bus. I have to be at trial by ten a.m.

I threw on clothes but left very LARGE rollers in my hair.

There is but one road to travel to the school and back to my farm.

As I round the bend...

I'm in surround sound: STOP THE TRUCK! NOW! DO NOT MOVE!

Trooper edges toward my door with gun drawn.

I profusely apologize for rollers in my hair.

Explained I'm new to the area and didn't know the rules of the county.

(Should have used empty tomato sauce cans.)

Trooper realizes error and apologizes.

Explains that surveillance (Big Brother) saw me, earlier.

Headquarters was alerted and armed officers dispatched, post haste.

Seems there's an escaped convict who shares my taste in Chevy trucks.

Trooper becomes nicer but I am, again, told: DO NOT MOVE!

His officers are too far away to see that I'm pure as the driven snow. (blush!)

Asks for registration. I reach over to get my ... "PLEASE, DO NOT MOVE, MA'AM!"

I tell him it's in the glove compartment. He says he'll get it.

Until I'm cleared, guns are still on target -- ME!

I pass and he signals for the Firing Squad to lower their rifles.

It is then that I ask for his name and mention I'm late for court.

Now, I have HIS attention.

With a smile and a, "Sorry for the inconvenience, Ma'am," we part friends.

Rush home; remove curlers; head to court.

It's Lee-Jackson Day. There is no court.

But, my hair looked great!

Moral of story: Life won't happen to you, unless you go out to meet it. Selah. 

This has been linked to Things I Can't Say, too. So, hop on over and visit and meet some new friends

Being Too Comfortable Isn't Necessarily a Good Thing

I can understand people wanting to be as comfortable as possible when having to wait for an appointment. I, too, like to be as comfortable as the next person when I'm in a waiting room; but; there are limits, don't you think? Take yesterday, for example. While waiting my turn in one of the few available seats in the emergency room, I found myself a captive audience to the young woman seated opposite, who apparently has a more cavalier view of personal comfort in public.

Probably in her early 20s, her sense of entitlement went beyond the pale. With hip-high jeans and a cropped shirt, her excess flesh between kind of splayed wherever because she was using the chair as a lounge, legs apart, and had moved forward enough to rest her head on the very low backrest of the chair. So, what's wrong with that, you want to know?

Finally, My DIY Kitchen Island for Under $140!

I've been a little busy of late trying to finish up my DIY project. Isn't it pretty? If you want to know how I did it with a flea market find, a pre-sanded wood panel, and some counter top paint, check it out on my other blog, Mainstream Solar Cooking. This solid oak item was actually closer to a credenza than a dresser, since it has shelves in the bottom section; but, an actual six-drawer dresser would work just as well. 

Royal Gorge Holiday Creates Royal Fright and Mutism

From Wikipedia: The Royal Gorge (also Grand Canyon of the Arkansas) is a canyon on the Arkansas River near Cañon City, Colorado. With a width of 50 feet (15 m) at its base and a few hundred feet at its top, and a depth of 1,250 feet (380 m) in places, the 10-mile-long canyon is a narrow, steep gorge through the granite of Fremont Peak. It is one of the deepest canyons in Colorado. Hop the train for a 24-mile round-trip within the canyon and see everything first hand. Here is where you'll find the incredible history of this great Colorado attraction.

royal - adjective - one of three definitions: a : of superior size, magnitude, or quality <a patronage of royal dimensions — J. H. Plumb> —often used as an intensive <a royal pain> 

The scene is set:

Memorial Day Weekend - 1971

My little family drove cross-country for a Western tour to visit my brother-in-law and his wife living in Colorado Springs and then on to California to visit my childhood friend and her husband to celebrate their 25th Anniversary. We hadn't seen each other since we were young girls of 11, although we wrote to each other every other week (back in the days of hand-written letters!).  We planned on visiting as many local attractions as time would allow along the way and Santa's "North Pole" Workshop located at the base of Pike's Peak in Cascade, CO was going to be a special treat for my girls. (Well, us, too, but we were grown-ups and couldn't really admit that we wanted to see the Workshop, too! And, of course, we signed up for a Letter from Santa that the girls would receive in December!) It was my brother-in-law's idea that we also visit Royal Gorge, a tourist attraction that was very different from the entertainment park you see, today. But, this scene is pretty close to the 1,250 feet of space that you would see, if you bent over the parapet at the end of what was a dirt and stone road on the mountain side opposite the train ride. That's what it was -- no buildings, no market, no bathrooms -- nothing but a parapet just under the height of a 3-1/2-year old child.

Since my husband really wanted to visit with his brother and didn't particularly care to spend too much time on the parapet, we divided parent-care duties. He was off to the side next to the car with his brother and my youngest; I had my 5-1/2 year-old in hand as we looked out at the cable car suspended over the Gorge. We could also see the train beginning it's ascent on the opposite wall.

My daughter and I  both decided we preferred standing on old terra firma as the best way to enjoy this incredible view. It was a gorgeous day and we also chatted a bit with the two or three other families next to us. Precise timing is lost but the numbness, the tremors, and all the horror of that day is as real to me, now, as it was then.

My oldest and I were just talking about who-knows-what, but chat we did, until I felt the pounding fill my body and heard the very soft voice telling me to turn around. Never letting go of my daughter's hand, I pivoted just enough to look toward my husband and his brother and my youngest -- No, I wasn't seeing my youngest daughter, at all! Nowhere! He was busily discussing whatever it is brother's busily discuss but my baby wasn't anywhere to be seen! I couldn't breathe. I couldn't cry out. My mouth went tight and my eyes begin to fill with tears. Where was she? Why are they chatting and laughing? He was supposed to be holding her hand! Where could she be? Where -- oh, shit! those are her -- her FINGERTIPS on the other side of the parapet wall near them! Oh, shit. Oh, damn. Oh, hell. Oh. My. GOD!! I'm screaming inside my head!

I don't know how the next happened, but you will never convince me I don't have a Guardian Angel -- don't even try.  Somehow, I leaned down to my oldest and quietly told her to run to her father -- NOW! I then moved as quickly as I possibly could over to my baby's fingertips. I looked over the parapet to the site you see above, except now you have to image a chubby little 3-1/2-year-old toddler, face flat against the stones, feet dangling above a whole lot of nothing but 1,250 feet of empty space beneath her! Can you do that?

Somewhere buried in my subconscious (my Guardian Angel) was the knowledge that I couldn't show panic. Of its own volition, my voice very calmly said, "If you're through looking at the cracks in the stones, now, I can help you up, Sweetie," and  my precious little baby said, "Okay, Mommy, 'cause I'm really tired, now."  While talking to her, my hands were grasping her forearms. I pulled her straight up and into my arms and held her -- just held her -- for hours, days, months, years, I just don't remember how long. I couldn't let go. I couldn't talk, but I do remember one lady coming over to me and wondering how I had remained so calm. I could only nod because I couldn't talk.

It wasn't really his fault. I knew my husband was also in shock. I knew I would forgive him for not paying more attention. But, not right then because I couldn't talk. And, I truly believe that that's what saved my marriage. I couldn't talk.

Who Really Won American Idol? Scotty or Lauren?

Update: The morning after!
CONGRATULATIONS, SCOTTY!

Courtesy USA Today

I'm just a little miffed, right now. With Scotty McCreery from my neck of the woods, I have supported him with my votes from the beginning. He's a wonderful young man with a bright future and I thoroughly enjoy his singing. And, I also enjoy Lauren's singing -- not as much as Hayley, but, then, again, they're all in the Top Ten and have a year's worth of touring to make their mark. American Idol is a show that allows young people a chance to side-step the serious work of a career and jump right into all the horrors that come from being plunged into that position, while the wheelers and dealers fill their pockets.

I really believe that's one of the reasons most of them fade into oblivion. There's no solid base to work from and the whole family gets caught up in the chaos of suddenly available fame and money. Your mid-teens show you can sing -- but the mid-teens have nothing to do with the maturity to run your own career, see through the charlatans and hangers-on who will whittle away your money, and all the new "friends" who will disappear at the first sign of your not picking up the check. If your family hasn't dealt with large sums of money, they don't develop the skill the moment you win the title. And, more importantly, you haven't LIVED enough to give a good song a solid telling of its story -- a reason, I believe, that most of today's songs are nothing more than the same phrase being repeated over and over to a great beat. (BOY! I really am miffed.)

So, to make a short story even longer, American Idol is a competition and should be treated as such. I think Scotty made a huge mistake in being a gentleman and giving song delivery placement choice to Lauren. This is when being a nice guy shoots you in the foot. Was his special song great? No, but it was a nice country song and folks will enjoy it. Was Lauren's song great? Oh, yes -- as only a true country tearjerker can be -- short of singing about Jesus or someone dying young.

But Scotty did his job and sang his songs. Lauren showed her true immaturity - personal and physical -- for the job ahead. Her voice doesn't have the strength to perform under heavy conditions. She's nervous and has missed more than she has succeeded -- yet, Haley (a far superior singer) lost out because she dared be her best at what she does and show some confidence. No one has ever taken issue with the judge's and made it to the finish.

So, Lauren (or, her people) decide she needs help. Did she have a vocal chord problem; yes. Did we need to know? No. But, let's put out a story that she probably won't be able to sing on the final night of competition. Well, that will bring in viewers. Yup. Oh, wait, let's make sure the viewers all know about her problem at the top of the show -- and, that she's bravely ready to carry on. Now, let's bring on the doctor to make sure we all understand that she's able to go on! Well, folks, for those of you who don't know, professional singers/entertainers have this problem all the time, and it's taken care of behind the scenes -- the audience doesn't have to be told, because the show goes on, without trying for the sympathy vote. And, if that isn't enough, we're going to go for one more pity vote. Let's let Lauren, hand-held by Ryan, walk down the stairs to her Mother (in the MIDDLE of her final competition song!) and with teary-eyes let them embrace, so that we all understand just what a difficult obstacle she's overcome to be here for this moment. Okay. It was a great song but a very heavy-handed biased presentation.

Why am I miffed? (Just so you know, I'm not alone, here. There have been too many complaints from other voters online, as well.) I tried over and over to cast my online vote (calling and texting, as well) and simply couldn't get through, ever! When you picked Scotty to vote for, the screen just locked up. I tried for almost two hours -- longer than the average old lady would ever do it, but I'm tenacious and had a mission. For some of those who made it through, according to the commenters, they were immediately greeted with a screen that said, "Thank You for your vote for Number Two!" That was Lauren's number. She had all the even numbers! Scotty had the odd numbers. Even though you are told you could vote up to 50 times (WTF?) for your favorite, you couldn't even get into a screen to cast your first vote. Then, for the few who did make it through, they get thanked for voting for Lauren! I'm usually not the suspicious type, but this same foolishness happened when we tried to vote for Fantasia, a few years ago. In fact, the number belonged to a private individual who wasn't the least bit happy about all the calls. By the time they got that problem straightened out, the voting was over.

Something is just not right. Until you can actually see the demographics and voting results, you can only take the word of the producers. But, when you are prevented from voting and there's been a declared favorite, you start getting that funny feeling... I hope and pray that Scotty wins because he did it by following the rules, and he's a local boy. But, if Lauren wins, I'll never believe it was a fair vote -- and, that's too bad. I still think the whole premise of American Idol is ludicrous because the voters never back up their votes with spending their money for recordings; but, it should still be fairly done.

I will wait, with America, to whoop or weep.

Reflecting on The A-Z Challenge

http://tossingitout.blogspot.com/

As most of you have figured out, I've been involved with the A-Z Blogging Challenge from Arlee Bird's group at Tossing It Out, using the letters of the alphabet for a daily posting (excluding Sundays) for the month of April (or, beyond, if you were a little slower in posting). There was well over 1300 participants and we were supposed to visit them all, make comments, and post our own stories, or themes, to fulfill the challenge. And, today, we're in a linky, as folks follow up with their feelings about the experience.

I remember being excited starting out, because it would take a month to accomplish. Then, as each day arrived, bringing a new letter challenge for posting, the reality of it all settled in and, on a few occasions, became onerous. It isn't that I didn't enjoy the exercise but that it had become something that seemed to take over my day.

You see, here's my problem (and, it may well be the same for others): I love to research -- anything! I was once asked to speak to a senior's class on writing and my first question  was, "Who likes to do homework?" No one raised a hand or blurted out their response (as is the wont of so many, today) and all were stunned to find out that being a successful writer requires non-stop reading and non-stop research (homework). Don't know how many from that class have since become writers, but it did change some minds that day. That being said, I repeat, I love research. So, what did that mean for this exercise? Nothing got done, as I had hoped, because I was up to my chin in lovely, lovely, research!

The dark side of research is that I was led to even more interesting things and my days became blurred whilst I submerged myself in discovery heaven. That I was actually able to put a post together was even more surprising. I would research, take a nap, and then wake up to write my post, and it would all come together. Were the posts perfect? No, that's not the point. The point, for me, is that I was able to write on many things that have been kept inside for a long time, as well as clarify the unknown by having to make it understood by others.

I think that's the joy and wealth of writing, really, being able to bring something new to others and sharing in such a way that it invites even more study on their part. If that has happened from just one of my postings, then, it was an even more cool exercise.

The benefit, of course, from the challenge was in meeting so many bloggers I might never have found and discovering their way of sharing their lives, either through prose, poetry, or imagery. Since I'm still trying to get Frogger off his lily pad and safe across the street, I'm probably not going to be following the gamers. But, that still leaves hundreds of kindred posters. The Internet is an exciting place to travel, a world vibrating with so many others reaching out to share and make permanent their own voices during their own personal journeys. Please continue to use the Surprise Me button to discover these wonderful people for yourself.

I will be getting to everyone, sooner or later, but 1300+ is a big number. I hope you will do the same and come visit me on my porch, share some rockin' chair reflections on a life of adventures and anecdotes. Who knows? I may even throw in some tooth-suckin' wisdom.  It's been a pleasure and lots of fun, and will definitely look forward to next year's challenge. Come visit when you can. I'll start the tea.