Most kids might use weekends to play with their friends. Some might enjoy exploring the outdoors. Others might be preoccupied with their organized sports team or club. Not me. I rummaged. This wasn't always my choice, but it was how I spent a good deal of my childhood "free time." Each rummage session had a familiar pattern. Scanning the ads in the newspaper was essential to finding the best deals and mapping out what geographic areas to hit up first. Residential rummages were the usual destination, but occasional neighborhood sales and thrift shops found their way onto the schedule. Early morning departures and evening arrivals were the norm. Special weekends were dedicated to the big flea markets, like the 7 Mile Fair, Rummage-o-Rama, or Maxwell Street Days. Occasionally, I looked to add to my own personal collections of baseball cards and paperback comics. However, once I was old enough to do my own rummaging, we shifted from being more than buyers, but sellers as well. Many hours were spent manning our own spot at these flea markets, selling stuff while purchasing even more, hoping to break even or at least find the newest treasure. . . at least for that day.