“Chuck! Chuck! It’s Marvin — your cousin, Marvin BERRY. You know that new sound you’re looking for? Well, listen to this!”

If you graduated from junior high in ‘91 you know Marvin Berry. He rocked a fierce lead guitar at the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance. At least he did right up until he gouged his hand with a screw driver, so Marty could leap out of the trunk of his car, so George could punch Bif in the head and win Lorraine’s heart, so the two of them, George and Lorraine, could fall in love and kiss during a rhythmic ceremonial ritual at the high-school auditorium.

Doc Brown invented the flex capacitor, which made time travel possible, but only at the movies. In real life, when a primal male wants to flex capacitate his way back in time he simply hops on over to I-29 Antiques just outside of Tea, SD. It’s no moon, it’s an antique outlet mall packed with nostalgia and crawling with people who would rather celebrate old ways than new ones. People that still drink coffee from small Styrofoam cups. People that only use their cell phones if they’ve rolled over their car or fell off of their horse – my kind of people.

Prime Magazine trusts me with an important responsibility, to wander around. It’s a job that I take kindly to, not for my own personal enjoyment of course, but for the benefit of mankind. Dedicated and loyal like a weathered Captain Woodrow F. Call I wonder, what do men in their prime do for kicks in the lesser-populated places of Middle America?

Gordon Lightfoot’s ‘Carefree Highway’ showered down from the overhead radio as we stepped inside the I-29 Antiques warp zone, too jittery to even remember to close the door behind us. “That’s alright, you’re just excited”, said a man from behind the counter. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with the likes of us. Time travelers, antique tweakers, big bargain hunters, he’s seen ‘em all. We caught him in the middle of a conversation. He was telling another fella’ about how he spent a good chunk of time in Alaska working as a hunting guide.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to stand around. I was on a hunt of my own. What was I hunting? A Pez dispenser collection, a picture of John Wayne, taxidermy, a Roy Roger’s badge, an authentic Lone Ranger pedometer, bowling pins, Hot Wheels, a Cubscout Handbook from 1963 – I was hunting all of that and more.

Primal dudes avoid shopping more intensely than they avoid almost anything, with the exception of maybe talking about feelings and stuff. I know, I’m a primal dude, and I’m telling you something strange happens when you set foot inside that antique store. As odd as it may sound, as you mill about glass display cases full of old Ross Perot bumper stickers and Peterbilt belt buckles, you almost, sort of, start to enjoy shopping.

Now do me a favor. Forget you ever read that.

That’s all from 1955, next stop: Estelline SD.