Word: goldfish
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...largest flea market in the mid-Atlantic region: $3.75 for a solid leather belt ("Why pay a buck for a bonded belt that will become brittle and broken?"); a still-to-be-dickered price for a potbellied-stove door ("When you need it, you need it"); $1.75 for a goldfish ("You get the bowl, you get the sand, you get the fish, you get two weeks' supply of fish food"). Says Steve Sobechko, who owns the Englishtown market: "It's a great recycling place...
...multi-level set mixes Roman with primitive, cleverly suggesting the conflict between civilization and repressed primal instincts. A pool in the center of the stage allows the actors to stare into the water and look miserable, as though it were an inimicable existential void, and it contains real goldfish--a nice touch. The various platforms and stairs permit some interesting blocking, as well as dramatically effective exits 20 feet above the main level...
...like any other priceless work of art. Pagett, by contrast, is both sensuous and voluptuous, a creature of fire and earth. Her face is marked, as Tolstoy said of Anna, by a "persistent animation." Compared with her predecessors, her features are less than ideal: her eyes have a slight goldfish bulge, her lips are too full, and her cheekbones are uncommonly high. But in one of those wonderful accidents of nature, the mistakes cancel one another out and the result is a face of strange beauty...
...years 1920 to 1928 brought $65,000. The Bible he carried as an ambulance driver in World War I fetched $4,500. One dealer even paid $2,750 for two pages of nine-year-old Ernest's scrawl describing how a clam in his school aquarium caught a goldfish by the tail...
That's when I made my getaway. Up the stairs past the sleeping boneless chicken, past a bowl of goldfish knitting woolen sweaters, past a lobster wearing a bib that said "Kosher," and out into the yard, where I hid in six-foot tall blades of grass which were reading copies of Pravda. I made it to my car, but to my chagrin, it was being eaten--by the very dog whose invitation to whist I had foolishly declined earlier in the afternoon...