What is it about a crisp autumn Saturday morning that lures some of us to a treasure hunt? Whereas others would much rather stay in bed late, catch up on housework or go fishing, some of us are compelled to hit the brakes suddenly at a glimpse of a neon hand-written sign for a garage sale, while others do not even notice them.
We are collectors. We collect anything our hearts desire and will go through extremes to achieve this. It is in our blood and often hereditary. We cannot help add one more item to an over crowded room because we fear that item will never cross our path again.
It doesn't matter what we collect or how extensively. We are a breed of our own much like ants. We diligently cover strange grounds. Think nothing of trying to fit a Baby Grand into a Volkswagen. Will call for assistance from any member of our colony at anytime, to make the impossible possible, so we can get what we don't really need back to our homes.
There are unspoken rules and etiquette that keep us civilized while still highly competitive. For example, when at a yard sale, if two people are drawn to the same item simultaneously, the true collector acts like anything but a collector. We will act naive about the gem we just found and very casual about our desire for it. But we will not be the first one to remove our hands from it either. We will distract the competitor with compliments, small talk, we will stoop so low as to fake chest pains if need be, but we will not walk away without the trophy. We deserve Academy Awards for best performance when we maintain all jubilation when we just found a mint condition complete Noritake tea set for $5 and have the audacity to ask the seller if they will take $3.
We are like hyenas on the Serengeti, lurking and waiting for that lion of a collectible to proudly present itself to us so we can pounce on the opportunity to bring it home and parade it in front of other members of our clan.
There is also a kinder, gentler side to us. Much like the above-mentioned ants, we also look out for one another and work together. When asked our opinion of something we are truthful, and helpful and happy to have been called upon. We do research for one another, help return family heirlooms to their rightful owners and compliment freely on each of our passions. We learn from each other and rely on our matriarchs for their experience. Does that make us like elephants too?
There is no end to collecting. When we downsize our homes or move across the country, we still hold on to our dearest possessions. Even if necessity means we can only hold onto a few pieces from our once extensive prized chattels, some of us would do without furniture rather than part with an original Icart. Just one of something can constitute a collection that has not yet expanded.
The sentimental value is also immeasurable. Like some birds that mate for life, we just can't let go. People may wonder why you have a beat up chalky of a sailor amongst your Fostoria. You patiently explain how Aunt Ethel won it at the county fair in 1937 for eating the most blueberry pies. Or what appears to be an elaborate child's arts & crafts project is the Tramp Art piece you picked up for a dollar while on vacation in Maine. Sometimes folks will ask why you have a street sign in your living room, as they are not aware the sign is the same as your maiden name and you could not walk away from it.
There is a story and lifetime within each and every trinket that has passed through the hands of many and eventually lands in ours. And every flea market, yard- garage- or estate-sale, and online auction brings the thrill of the hunt to our hearts every time. Happy hunting to you all.
