George's Mercantile is an extension of my love for the treasures of the past. Look for my finds at Brass Armadillo Antique Mall booth 148 on South Dakota.
On Tuesdays after the evening meal, we'd all go to the mercantile. Folks brought banjos and out of tune guitars, started jamming down by the jelly jars. One old microphone was all we had, and anyone could join the band. In our little town it's what we waited for. Tuesdays, Tuesdays, Tuesdays down at Jacob's General Store, down at the store. When were young, this weekly occurrence was meant for those with picking endurance. Sometimes we'd play till way past ten, friends and neighbors, and most of our kin. One old microphone was all we had, and anyone could join the band. In our little town everyone was an overnight star. Tuesdays, Tuesdays, Tuesdays down at Jacob's General Store, down at the store. Years have passed, the store is gone. Just a vacant lot, children play on. But things were different when I was a kid. I won't forget the playin' we did. One old microphone was all we had, and anyone could join the band. In our little town it's what we waited for. Tuesdays, Tuesdays, Tuesdays down at Jacob's General Store, Tuesdays, Tuesdays, Tuesdays down at Jacob's General Store, down at the store. Tuesdays, Tuesdays, Tuesdays down at Jacob's General Store, down at the store.
