Antiques Guide/Antiquing

Adventures In Antiquing--Estate Auctions

I first really got into antiquing heavily about seven years ago, when I was going through my divorce. It was a tough time for me, and "treasure hunting" kept me quite occupied. My cousin--let's just call her "Junker Jane"--had been dealing in antiques for over ten years at that time. She was always on the hunt for antiques and collectibles, her favorite being primitive items, such as antique gardening tools, boxes & crates, baskets, bowls, and furniture. She was "in the loop" around town, being known for selling quality antiques at low prices. The antique dealers were some of her best customers, because of her pricing. Boy, she could turn a buck!

On alternate Sundays throughout the winter months, a local auctioneer held estate auctions at a nearby community hall. Independent dealers could put from 10 to 20 items in the auction, depending on their privy status with the auctioneers, which enhanced both the quantity and the quality of the auction lot. Janie frequented these auctions as both buyer and seller, and it was at this time that she invited me to tag along for something to do. After my first auction, I was hooked! We made it a standing date to attend these bi-weekly winter events, and I, too, began placing items to sell in these auctions. Whoever said that you should "never mix business with pleasure" has obviously never been to an estate auction, because, man, we had some fun! Upon arrival, we'd first look to see when our items would be up for bids, so we could keep watch on them. Then, we'd browse the collection to determine which items we each wanted to bid on, and when they'd be on the auction block. We'd look around to see who was there, and then--just like school girls--we'd be whispering and giggling about it, sometimes excitedly, sometimes wickedly. We'd get snacks at the concession stand, and visit with other buyers and sellers, of all ages and from all walks of life, sometimes meeting new people, and always hearing loads of auction gossip (and I'm here to tell you that the auction scene was just like a soap opera at times!). We'd watch what other people were bidding on and how they'd bid, trying to guess their motivation, how high they'd go, and who would win, sometimes looking at each other mutely, wide-eyed and raised brows in astonishment at the results. (When you do things with your best friend, you oftentimes need not say a word--body language and facial expressions are the mode of communication. This mute tactic is especially helpful during an auction, when you may need to secretly observe your "potential opponents," should you be pitted against them in a bidding war.) Oh, the fun we'd have at these auctions!

We would go with our friend and cohort, Phillippe' (pronounced Phil-LEEP-pay), who served as our "muscle-hound," to help load up the goodies we'd buy. We both had pick-up trucks, and we'd usually have both of them filled to over-capacity when the auction was through--I mean, you need to imagine something like the Grinch's jam-packed sleigh teetering over the edge of the mountain cliff--there was hardly room for a passenger to fit! And I usually drove home, ever so slowly (it was only a couple miles) so as not to lose my load, with a smiling sense of great accomplishment at having won so many wonderful and worthy items...that is, until I was pulling into the driveway, and wondering how the hang I was I was going to unload the truck, where in the world I was going to stuff all of my new-found treasures, and fearing that the neighbors, or worse yet, my family, would see them before I had tucked them away! Well, again, that's where Phillippe' came in. He was our savior, mine and Janie's, and we tried never to go anywhere without him. (Though I must say, his wife didn't favor our outings too much!)

One day at auction was particularly memorable. It was the day that we were acting like the "auction police", a special undercover unit we unwittingly formed to keep the auction staff on the up-and-up. We always put stuff in the auctions, though it was a difficult choice for each of us--we agonized and procrastinated, for all of the two-week lead time, on what to part with: if the item would be missed, how much it might bring, who might bid on it, yadah, yadah, yadah...Janie always put in good items, while I usually put in junk, unjustifiably and anxiously refusing to part with any of my "good stuff." (Counterproductive, you say? Yeh, I know...but that's the way it always went down for me--they say it's a sickness, you know.) For this auction, Janie had made up some box lots, which are boxes filled with an assortment of items, mostly mundane, with at least one goodie to "sweeten the pot", and all for one money. Dealers oftentimes use box lots to clear out their clutter or rid old inventory, and I've found many a treasure in them. One of Janie's boxes contained a bunch of old games, one of which was the "magnet stick maze" (I can't remember the name, but I fondly remember playing it), where you used the attached magnet stick to pull the metal bug through the covered plastic maze tray. It was definitely the "bait" in this box. There have been times at these auctions where unscrupulous attendees have sneaked something out of one box and put it in another box that they planned to bid on. It's not right, but it does happen. In fact, I often kept hawk eyes on the boxes that I wanted to bid on to detect just such tomfoolery.

Savvy sellers keep tabs on their items during the auction: they know what they put in; and when it's scheduled for auction by the lot number assigned to it. By paying attention, you'll know what and how much you've sold thus far, or who's buying what, and perhaps even gain a future customer by doing so. So Janie and I were doing what smart sellers do--keeping track of our auction inventory throughout the day--when Janie noticed that her box of games was missing! I was guarding my position by some cupboards that I wanted to bid on, when she came hurriedly over to me from the other side of the hall. In complete disbelief, she told me that she could NOT find her game box, and she knew that it hadn't been auctioned off yet. I stopped everything and replied with a gasp, eyes wide open and jaw dropped (Janie and I are famous for gasps and omg's--we can find the shock factor in anything!). We immediately started a barrage of what could have happened, and within a few seconds, we thought we had our answer--could it be Karl?? The box did have some goodies in it that Karl would certainly have liked, namely the "magnet-stick maze". Karl was a well-known (though questionably unsavory) antique dealer, and a first assistant to the auctioneer. He was in charge of item line-up at the auction block tables, which were draped in sweeping tablecloths, with waiting items being slid along forward as the auction progressed. Janie wanted me to go over to the other side, and nonchalantly try to find the game box up somewhere near the waiting line. So off I went, striding quickly and determinedly, to find the box and catch the culprit, while Janie waited behind. I got to the front of the hall on the opposite side, as near to the auction tables as I could get, and tried to peer into the flap of the table skirting, to see if maybe someone shoved the box under there--because that's where we thought that maybe Karl had slid and hid it. I felt like I looked suspicious, guilty for sneaking up there like that, and that people were watching me, and wondering what the hang I was up to. I couldn't see behind the table skirting, so I marched back to the other side to tell Janie. We switched places, and she again marched worriedly over to the other-side front. She came back after a few minutes with still nary a clue as to where the game box was. We clucked away like two nervous hens, though quietly, trying not to make a scene to others around us. (We had to be careful, because Janie and I were the favored viewing pleasure of many an old geezer at these auctions, and right now, we were trying to be discreet!) We must have switched off four or five times, taking turns going up to the front to look, and clucking away quietly but excitedly in between. When we finally realized what we were doing, the complete absurdity of the situation and the spectacle we were making, we both began to giggle with delight. I must tell you that I don't even remember how it ended--if the box was actually tampered with or not (Poor Karl, for being a suspect!). But I can tell you that it was one of the greatest times that we ever had at auction--one that both of us will always remember with a good laugh and a few omg's. And this just goes to prove that there really IS an underworld at estate auctions, if you just look closely...

The moral of this story (since I've forgotten what really happened to the box) is this: as you travel through life, it's not the destination that's important, it's the journey along the way.

Finding Treasures at Rummage Sales

Memorial Weekend was our first trip to the cottage this summer, and I planned to make it a fruitful journey, indeed. There are always lots of rummage sales on the holiday weekends, and not having been to any in a while, I was chomping at the bit to get out. All the way up the back highway, there were sales here and sales there--and that's all it took to get the "fire" burning once again, eyes bulging and neck straining to see as we flew past, but my kids would never let me stop, so I just kept on driving.

It began at my ex's house: The kids and I stopped to visit him on the way up north, just before the big weekend. While drinking my morning coffee, and without internet access up there to bide my time, I peered out the back patio, and through the neighboring woods, and thought I spotted some kind of unusual winged retro chair at a nearby neighbor's yard sale. I made a verbal commitment right then to get over there, to which my kids replied with various moans and groans of anguish for yet "more junk" cluttering up our house. I was going to have to be sneaky to get to this sale...

In the early afternoon, the kids and I took a bike ride, and on the way back, with the kids peddling fast ahead of me, I veered into that sale on my bike, undetected by them, and immediately noticed that "the retro chair" was missing! I asked the owners, and sure enough, someone had already snatched it up and hauled it away. Shucks--I knew that would happen! With rummage sales, the old sayings ring true: you have to "strike while the iron is hot," and "the early bird gets the worm." Nevertheless, I perused the sale, and ended up with some pretty good finds:

the rusted base of a Dazey butter churn--it wasn't seized up (though the owners had used it for a wind-mill type lawn ornament), and it had the Dazey Mfg stamp that I had never seen in person before, and, since I had never owned a butter churn, I wanted it;

a vintage hand puppet, with a painted wooden head, long nose, and charming checkered and felt fabrics, in very good condition with no tears or stains. The yarn hair had some losses, but still emitted a certain vintage appeal. The kids were a bit creeped out by the puppet's clown-like face, but that just made it more fun for me(!);

2 small, metal, vintage Tonka dune buggies, with very good paint;

an assortment of marked, diecast Matchbox and other brand cars & trucks;

a vintage Ohio Art metal lunch box / car carrier with excellent paint, cardboard car divider included;

a collection of 14 vintage NASA Hubble Space Telescope lithographs with original envelope, re-released in 1990, (of recent significance due to the deployment of a repair crew to yet again attempt to extend the Hubble's life);

a vintage hard-case Samsonite suitcase, complete with key, and original hangers, in great condition (I love old suitcases!); and more...

It was a pretty good haul for just a half-hour's work and less than $40. For me, the new junk season had officially begun, and I was once again primed and ready to take on the sales!