Saturday was a day the boys were anxiously anticipating – a day of fishing with Grand Dad – and the weather proved conducive to their cause.

After we dropped them off and had visited with my Dad for a few minutes, Alan and I headed for Greensboro for some “antiquing” and window shopping that I had all too long wanted to do for myself.  First, we had to stop in at the Habitat for Humanity Home store – let me tell you – if youÂ’re looking for some bargains on furniture – this is a must see, must shop place!!  All items are donated and sold, with proceeds funding the Habitat for Humanity projects.  But the furniture is like brand new at this particular location!!  There were even pieces with the original tags and packaging as if never used!  Bargains galore!

After grabbing a bite to eat, we headed for Main Street Greensboro!  Cute, cute little town and the antiques shops are overflowing onto the sidewalks readily enticing passers by – especially ME – to come in and browse.

Well, browse I did.

I didnÂ’t have anything in particular that I was looking for – but you just never know what you might run across at the next little shop you venture in.  I mostly like to compare pricing among different areas and from shop to shop, and then I know a true bargain when I come across one.

The mega store I had saved for last.  This antique shoppe was an extravaganza at best boasting two floors in an old, old building from the 1800Â’s.  You have never seen such a collection of odds and ends, true antiques, jewelry, collectibles – but I must admit IÂ’ve become fascinated with this new surge of “Vintage” items.

Vintage.

I love words, so when they catch my attention like this one, I seem to follow them wherever and whenever they appear and this one is a very popular term in the world of antiques, flea markets and second time around shops.

According to the little dictionary “thingee” built into my word processor, Vintage is of or related to being “good for wine”, then “of the best”, “classic”, and last but not least: “out of date, no longer fashionable or modern.”

Guess what?  Much to my horror, it seems IÂ’ve become, well, “vintage”.

For every turn and twist of each isle housed some little something from the 1970Â’s!!!  Oh my.   I couldnÂ’t believe my eyes – the 70Â’s greens and avocadoÂ’s – I even saw a roll of 70Â’s shag carpet!! (Surely it should have disintegrated by now – but Nope!).  And every little item was tagged with the caption, “Vintage thus and so” just above the priceÂ….

I graduated from high school in 1979, so does that make me early vintage or late vintage or just regular vintage?

I donÂ’t feel vintage.  But then, what does vintage feel like?

So while I was perusing the volumes and volumes of now vintage wares on the second floor of this old, creaking building, a well dressed, nearly 90 year old gentleman says to me, “These are some old, old floors we’re walking on.”

And me being, well – ME – replied, “I know it.  I canÂ’t help but wonder about all the people who have ever walked across these floors.”

That was all I had to say – because I hardly got a word in edgewise for the next 20 minutes.

Bless his heart.

[I know his wife was hiding behind shelves of vintage wares somewhere thinking, “Poor (vintage) girl, if she had only known…”]

Among other topics, he talked me through the geography of Greene County including the house where he was born, how all the “young people” of UGA in Athens (obviously not yet vintage) are buying up all the old houses in his hometown and redoing them and the short cut of a dirt road he now uses to bypass the traffic in downtown Greensboro.

I was nearly exhausted, when he launched into this question, “Did you know that this used to be where they embalmed people?”

“Why no I didn’t,” I replied.

“Yes MaÂ’am, right on this very floor, they used to embalm the dead here,” he stated.  ("As opposed to the living?" I couldn't help but think to myself.)

“In fact,” he went on, “there was a man that died here and no one would claim him and so they kept him in the freezer back there for a long time.”  Finally, he took a breath and continued, “A friend of mine came by and he took me back there and showed me the dead man.  And it was only just five years ago, the State finally agreed to bury him.”

Despite my inability to speak and provide an adequate response, I knew I would sleep better now knowing this all to valuable piece of small town trivia.

Truthfully though, now THAT is vintage.

HKJ