CSotD: Remembrance of Things Past
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The other day, I belittled comic book collecting and other speculative bubbles, and now comes the Blabbing Baboon to make the excellent point that, as long as buyers believe in the value, value exists.
As it happens, when I went through my (mercifully shorter) period of unemployment seven years ago, I sold off the bulk of my collection of GA Henty novels on Ebay, and, like him, had one astonishing sale early on.
Henty was a Victorian writer of historic fiction for boys who had a great influence on a number of people besides me, including F. Scott Fitzgerald, Barbara Tuchman and Arthur Schlesinger, and though it’s fashionable to despise him for his imperialist views, that link provides a more balanced portrait.
My copy of his 1895 novel, “A Woman of the Commune,” was nowhere as near as decorative as the normal Blackie & Sons first editions, but simply a plain-covered edition that had been printed in Bombay.
But as soon as it was listed, I got an email inquiry asking about the color of the end-papers and whether the edge of the cover was beveled. My response was followed by a cash offer of $500 if I would take it off auction, which was then followed by a second cash offer of $750.
I declined, and, in the last 90 seconds or so of the auction, it lept to a final sales price of $2,250, which was okay with me, though, like Richard, I was well aware that I shouldn’t expect a repeat of that, nor did I get one: The remainder of the collection went for what I suppose was an average of just under $100 or so a pop.
But it did get me through the hardest of my hard times, and I held onto a few I still wanted.
However, to defend my point on collecting-as-investment, I was lucky that Henty is considered collectible. I not only had several other similar pieces of boys’ fiction from the same era that weren’t of interest but some first editions of people like Anatole France that did not raise so much as a whisper.
The difference between an antique sale and a rummage sale being a matter not of quality evinced but of revenue produced.
And speaking of strangely fascinating old things
You Damn Kid brings back old memories, because those daytime quiz shows were a staple of my life, back when I was Daddy-By-Day/Writer-By-Night.
The Match Game was good company when you were doing dishes or laundry and watching the kid, because it was light and fluffy and didn’t demand more attention than you could spare.
And, just the other day, I was discussing a chief difference between game shows like Hollywood Squares or the Gong Show, which were taped in California, and earlier ones like Match Game, such as What’s My Line?, I’ve Got A Secret and Password, which were produced in New York: The former featured film and TV stars, the latter brought in Broadway personalities.
The result, in those East Coast shows, was the emergence of a lot of people who seemed to be famous for being famous, but who, upon examination, turned out to be well-known in the theater, including one who later played Liz Lemon’s mother on 30 Rock, which, by golly, was shot in NYC.
Anyway, if I were an omnipotent deity, I’d sure have fun with my affection for such old-time piffle!
And speaking of things I said the other day
Today’s Bizarro is an example of the cartoons which I remarked recently make my Lenten political-cartooning fast problematic.
Is this a gag cartoon, or a political cartoon?
It could be a single-issue political cartoon, aimed at those short-sighted people who seem obsessed with the single issue of whether they have enough money to feed and house their families and provide them with adequate medical care and an opportunity for education, and whether their jobs are being shipped overseas and if they’ll have any retirement funds to draw upon, and whether an oligarchy is controlling politics and whether the system seems totally loaded against them.
However, if you put that single political issue aside, it’s simply a gag.
A gag that brings back memories of bar owners with diamond pinkie rings explaining why they couldn’t possibly afford to pay the band, while their luxury cars were parked out back and their boats were at the dock by their second home on the lake.
So I get it, but it didn’t make me laugh.
On the other hand, if you want to know something I don’t get, it’s the slang phrase “like a Boss!”
I have to assume the people who use it are either like this gullible fool, or perhaps have never had a boss at all.
The other day, somebody posted one of those “move two match sticks” puzzles and challenged readers to “Solve it like a Boss!”
So I gave it to my assistant and took a three hour lunch.
Trying to find a way to kill four hours or so a day?
I seem to be linking to Mike Lynch’s blog often lately. It’s a daily check-in for me, but either he’s been more right-on recently, or at least for some reason more in tune with me, so here we are again.
This latest entry is on how to start a blog, and I particularly like the cartoon because, yes, there is a twinge when someone asks a question that, dammit, you just answered in exquisite, articulate detail two days before on your blog.
I generally agree with all his advice, except that he uses Blogger and I use Typepad. Blogger is free and I had a personal blog there for several years, but I prefer paying a bit for the additional layout options and overall ease of operation I get here.
That’s personal preference and of little overall importance. His advice is solid.
However, if you run into him after today, for god’s sake don’t ask him for tips on starting a blog.
Please replace “baby” with “blogger.” Thank you.
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