Walking Into The Past

It's called Antique Row and indeed is a couple of blocks dedicated to antique shops -- all in a row. He wanted to visit Antique Row and so we did. One shop after another until our senses could take no more. My friend bought a table almost identical to a table of his childhood living room -- almost identical to the same table still in his parents' home promised to him whenever...you know. Not wanting to wait for ...you know... he bought this table.
I bought nothing. I did not, however, feel deprived.
That Courier & Ives book over in that corner -- that's the one. I used to own not that exact book I'm sure but one just like it. I was a child and the contents of that book for me depicted far away and magical places.
And that three tiered candy dish. My grandmother might have owned something similar in a day when hospitality mattered sufficiently to take up space on the table.
What went wrong with that trip to Disneyland that Steve and Judy gave their personalized souvenir mugs to an antique dealer? Or was Disneyland not the problem but events far removed from the happiest place on earth?
We wandered for almost two hours. Then he paid for his childhood table and we left the mustiness of dusty yesterdays.
Maybe we'll go back to Antique Row some day. Until then, I don't have to lug that baggage from that past with me. Apparently neither do Steve and Judy.