They are trying to slowly kill me!

My husband and I packed our girls into their new Radio Flyer wagon to hit the new indoor flea market located in the old Hill's building. Let's start on a positive note. Actually, two of them. I love flea markets. I love the crap somewhere left of the stuff shown in Ebay magazines and right of the Pittsburgh Steeler fuzzy throws or moving waterfall wall hangings. Also, I think it is beautiful to reuse a vacant building, instead of tearing through some more wetland or farmland to building another shell out of substandard materials.
As with any flea market, there will be the old men with stellar yet dusty treasures waiting to make a deal. There will be the shrewd grandmas selling a basement's worth (about seven decades) of bakeware, cookware, magazines, children's toys, and various other decorative housewares. Also, there will be the Meth mom with one tooth left in her head selling all her children's dirty toys (as the children are with her, playing with the toys in a last hoorah). And, who can forget the 40-something slob, still living with his mom. You know, the guy who thinks you're a dumb-ass because you can't see the value in his unlistenable Sam Hagar LP and his destroyed 1980's back-copies of TV Guide. I'm not gonna even explore the boothes full of NEW South American or Asian manufactured nickel plated trinkets.
Here's the problem-- you know there had to be one if I am taking the time to write this, right? The sign on the front of the building reads: All Season's Market. See? See! What the heck! I stood there for a few minutes exploring all the possibilities. ALL of this building belongs to someone named SEASON? Every square inch of it? Apparently, what it is not is this: an ALL SEASONS MARKET (open all seasons, but belonging to none) or a MARKET belonging to ALL SEASONS' (notice the slight change). This inappropriate flick of a paint brush is an embarrassment! With the poor shape of our American dollar, dozens of busloads full of Canadians are coming to shop the stores surrounding this ALL SEASON'S MARKET. And, are their hunches are correct: Americans are uneducated dumb-asses? And, I don't even wanna think what our New Yorker neighbors, trying to save a few bucks on taxes, think about all of us slack-jawed Pennsyltuckians.
Things like this give me the shivers in a bad way. Ghosts down in the basement of the old train station give me shivers, too, in a good way. tThey make me feel my hair follicles. I can understand a mis-typed letter or dollar sign or comma placed a double-space away from an and, but, or or in speed. The brain works faster than the fingers, I understand all too well. But, this is publicly displayed SIGNAGE. And, it is right above the door of the establishment. It is the first interaction all customers will have with all the vendors. However, I need to keep in mind the audience. Why assume people going to flea markets can't read!?!?! Respect the lowest of the lower classes (maybe they'll forgive you when the price of flour pushes them over the edge and they consider eating you)!