HOCKEY AND BASEBALL CARDS STARTED THE BALL ROLLING - THAT NEVER STOPPED ROLLING FROM THEN TO NOW
CORNER STORE PURCHASES WERE MY OPENING PASSION - WASHED DOWN BY A MILLION COLD POP
I WAS A CORNER-STORE JUNKIE. I CAN ADMIT IT NOW. I'M COOL WITH YOU KNOWING THIS LONG-HELD SECRET. THAT'S RIGHT. I USED TO HANG AROUND THE VERANDAH AND FRONT STEP OF THE TWO CORNER STORES, ON BRACEBRIDGE'S HUNT'S HILL. I WAS A PATIENT LITTLE BUGGER. I'D WAIT FOR THE COOL TEENAGE CROWD, TO BUY THEIR BOTTLES OF COKE, STAND AROUND OUT FRONT OF THE STORE, LOOKING AND ACTING LIKE BIG TIMERS, AND THEN BEING WILLING TO DO ANY DANCE THEY WANTED, SO I COULD GET THE EMPTIES. I WAS A CHAMPION POP BOTTLE SCAVENGER BACK THEN, IN THE MID 1960'S. I COULD GET TWO CENTS FOR EACH BOTTLE, FIVE CENTS FOR A BIG ONE. BUT SEEING AS YOU COULD GET THIRTY BLACKBALLS FOR TEN CENTS, THIS WAS A LUCRATIVE ENTERPRISE. ON A SATURDAY MORNING, BEFORE NOON, I MIGHT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO RESCUE, OR BE HANDED, TWELVE OR MORE EMPTIES. I WAS A SHREWD BUYER OF SHOWCASE CANDY, AND IT WAS ALSO THE REASON I COST MY PARENTS HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS EVERY YEAR, WITH BILLS FROM THE DENTIST. BUT HONESTLY, HANGING AROUND THOSE SIMPLE, STUFFED TO THE RAFTERS CORNER STORES, WAS PART OF MY EDUCATION IN THE ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE BUSINESS. ALL THAT TIME INVESTED SEEMS TO HAVE PAID OFF. AND I HELPED OUR FAMILY DENTIST HAVE A DECENT RETIREMENT. THERE WAS MORE THAN BLACKBALLS IN THOSE MAGNIFICENT, LONG AND SPARKLING GLASS AND WOOD SHOWCASES, AT LIL AND CEC'S VARIETY STORE ON TORONTO STREET. THERE WERE PACKETS OF HOCKEY CARDS WITH GUM SO STALE, IT WOULD SHATTER INTO A TRILLION PIECES IF IT WAS ACCIDENTALLY DROPPED. THE PLETHORA OF TREATS INSIDE THE CASE LOOKED LIKE A JACKSON POLLOCK PAINTING. THERE WERE SO MANY COLORS AND SHAPES FOR THE EYES AND IMAGINATION TO JUDGE.
THE OTHER CORNER STORE ON OUR BLOCK, WAS BAMFORD'S, AND IT WAS PART OF THE WOODLEY PARK COTTAGES. WE LIVED ON ALICE STREET, A MINUTE JOG FROM OUR APARTMENT, TO THE DOORSTEPS OF BOTH. IT WAS PERFECT FOR A KID WHO NEEDED HIS CANDY FIX. WHEN I GOT MY ALLOWANCE ON FRIDAY NIGHT, I SPENT HALF AT ONE STORE, AND BY SATURDAY AT NOON, THE REST OF IT WENT TO THE OTHER CORNER SHOP. LIL AND CEC'S HAD GREAT CENT CANDY, AND ICE COLD POP. BAMFORDS HAD COMICS AND INTERESTING MERCHANDISE, TO GO ALONG WITH THEIR COOLERS OF FIVE CENT POPSICLES. I BOUGHT MY FIRST MINOR LEAGUE BALL GLOVE AT BAMFORDS, AND THE WOODEN BAT TO GO WITH IT. BOTH SHOPS WERE FULL OF TODAY'S NOSTALGIA. I MUST HAVE KNOWN WHAT WAS TO COME, WITH MY ANTIQUE GENES, BECAUSE I WAS KEENLY TUNED TO THOSE SPECIAL PIECES TO COLLECT, FOR INVESTMENT VALUE, SOMEWHERE AND TIME DOWN THE ROAD. WE HAD LOTS OF COKE BOTTLE CAPS, WITH STAR HOCKEY PLAYERS PRINTED ON THE TOP. AS ROGER CROZIER WAS ON ONE OF THE CAPS, AND HE WAS A BRACEBRIDGE LAD WHO MADE IT BIG IN THE NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE'S ORIGINAL SIX, WITH THE DETROIT RED WINGS, WE ALL WANTED HIS IMAGE IN OUR COLLECTIONS. I HAD AT LEAST TEN. I'VE ONLY GOT ONE LEFT.
AS I THINK BACK TO ALL THE INFLUENCES I HAD, TO SCULPT THE ANTIQUE DEALER OF TODAY, I CAN'T SKIP PAST THIS CORNER STORE CULTURE BECAUSE IT WAS HUGE FOR ALL OF US NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS. WHETHER YOU HAPPENED TO BE COLLECTING THE PRIZES FROM LUCKY ELEPHANT, CRACKER JACKS, HOSTESS CHIPS, OR THOSE ORANGE ICE CREAM CONES, "BURIED TREASURE" I THINK THEY WERE CALLED, HOCKEY, BASEBALL OR NOVELTY CARDS FROM THE BEATLES, TO THE MUNSTERS, THESE STORES KEPT US AS CUSTOMERS…..BECAUSE WE NEEDED THEIR MERCHANDISE TO COMPLETE OUR COLLECTIONS. MY FAVORITE BACK THEN, WERE THE PLASTIC PLANES THAT CAME IN HOSTESS CHIPS, I THINK, AND ANYTHING HOCKEY RELATED, FROM THOSE BOTTLE CAPS, I MENTIONED, TO THE HOCKEY CARDS, OPECHEE OFFERED WITH THE ROCK HARD GUM THAT HURT YOUR TEETH.
MY PARENTS USED TO GIVE ME A DOLLAR ON FRIDAY NIGHT, CIRCA 1967, AND I MAY HAVE BEEN ABLE TO ADD THAT TO ANY MONEY I MADE SHOVELLING SNOW AT OUR APARTMENT, OR MOWING THE LAWN. I WASN'T VERY GOOD AT EITHER OCCUPATION, BUT THE LANDLORD FIGURED, THAT IF HE KEPT ME BUSY TRYING TO EARN MONEY, I WOULDN'T DO GRIEVOUS DAMAGE TO ANYTHING OR ANYONE ELSE. I GOT FIRED TWICE FOR SENDING GRASS CLIPPINGS AND DIRT INTO A DOWNSTAIRS APARTMENT, (WHICH EXPLAINED THEIR DIRT-COVERED FACES WHEN THEY EMERGED) AND SIMILARLY IN THE WINTER, WHEN I COMPLETELY BURIED BASEMENT WINDOWS WITH SNOW. I DIDN'T KNOW THAT THE WARM GLASS WOULD MELT THE SNOW, AND CREATE A WATER PROBLEM FOR THOSE NICE PEOPLE, WHEN THEY GOT HOME FROM WORK…..AND HAD TO DON THEIR WELLINGTONS TO WATCH TELEVISION. ANYWAY, EVEN MY PARENTS WOULD GIVE ME MONEY TO "GO AWAY," AND I WAS ALWAYS BEING GIVEN "SMOKE RUNS," WHEN I HAD TO CHARGE OVER TO BAMFORDS TO BUY CIGARETTES. THE DEAL WAS, UNLESS THEY GAVE ME A TEN DOLLAR BILL, THE CHANGE LEFTOVER, WAS MINE FOR MY "FETCHING SERVICE." I WAS MAKING SOME PRETTY GOOD COIN BACK THEN, FOR STAYING AWAY FROM HOME.
THE REAL CRAFT HERE, WAS MY ABILITY TO COAX A POP BOTTLE OUT OF YOUR HAND, SO I COULD CASH IT IN, FOR THE DEPOSIT. I WOULD WAIT AROUND THE SIDE OF LIL AND CEC'S, LURKING CLOSE ENOUGH TO HEAR THE POP BOTTLES HIT THE GARBAGE CAN OUT FRONT. THE COOL DUDES WHO GATHERED ON THE STEPS OF THE STORE, TO TALK ABOUT THE LOCAL CHICKS THEY WANTED TO DATE, WERE MUCH TOO COOL TO GO BACK INTO THE STORE FOR A COUPLE OF CENTS DEPOSIT. TO KIDS LIKE US, WITH AN INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR CENT CANDY, DIVING INTO THOSE BARRELS WITHOUT HESITATION……WAS AS NATURAL AS JUMPING OFF THE ROCKS INTO THE MUSKOKA RIVER AT BASS ROCK. IF THE COMPETITION WAS FIERCE THAT PARTICULAR DAY, FOR THE RETURNS, WE'D BE SO BOLD AS TO STAND UNDER THE TEENAGERS' RAISED ELBOWS, TO BE FIRST TO GRAB THE EMPTIES ON THE DOWNSWING. I WAS A SUGAR ADDICT AND WHETHER IT WAS A SACK FULL OF JUJUBES, BLACK BALLS, JAW BREAKERS, SHERBETS WITH THE LICORICE STRAW (I ALMOST DIED TWICE INHALING THESE THINGS) A STRAND OF CANDY WE COULD WEAR AROUND OUR NECKS WHILE EATING…….. OR SWEET TARTS, WE LEFT THOSE SHOP STAIRS WITH WILD, CRAZY EYES…..WITH ENOUGH ENERGY TO RUN UP THE SIDE OF A BUILDING, AND CHASE TRAINS. ADD TO THIS THE SEVERAL POP AND EITHER CARAMEL CORN, CANDY POPCORN, OR POTATO CHIPS, AND WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN TOE-TAGGED AS THE "RECENTLY DECEASED." I'M AMAZED I STILL HAVE MY TEETH. MY MOTHER ACTUALLY STARTED TO CRY, WHEN THE DENTIST CAME OUT OF THE EXAMINATION ROOM ONE SUMMER DAY, TO SHOW HER THE SHOCKING X-RAY. ELEVEN CAVITIES CREATED SINCE THE LAST CHECK-UP, LESS THAN A YEAR PREVIOUS. SHE CRIED IN THE DENTIST'S OFFICE BUT SCREAMED AT ME ALL THE WAY HOME. SHE MIGHT HAVE HIT ME TOO, BUT I COULD DART AND WEAVE PRETTY GOOD, FOR A CHUNKY KID. IF SHE HIT ME ON THE BEHIND, SHE'D JUST WASTE THE SLAP HITTING THE FULL BAG OF CENT CANDY I BOUGHT BEFORE GOING TO THE DENTIST.
I WAS MOST DEFINITELY INFLUENCED BY THE CORNER STORE SHOPPING EXPERIENCE. ALL OF US KIDS SPENT FAR TOO MUCH TIME, AND WAY TOO MUCH MONEY, BUYING JUNK FOOD AND CANDY, BUT OF ALL MY MATES BACK THEN, BY GOLLY, WE'RE ALL STILL HALE AND HARDY AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. THE SHOP OWNERS ARE ALL GONE NOW, AND THEY WERE LIKE FAMILY, BECAUSE WE SPENT JUST AS MUCH TIME IN THEIR SHOPS, OR HUNKERED DOWN ON THEIR FRONT STEPS, AS WE DID HANGING AROUND HOME. IF MY MOTHER WAS GOING OUT SOMEWHERE, AND SHE WAS WORRIED ABOUT WHAT I WAS GOING TO GET UP TO, ALL I HAD SAY WAS, "RICK, DON AND I ARE GOING TO HANG OUT AT BAMFORDS FOR AWHILE," OR "WE'RE MEETING AT LIL AND CEC'S," AND THAT WAS AS GOOD TO HER, AS HAVING TO PAY SOME POOR SOUL TO BABYSIT THE IMPOSSIBLE CHILD.
WHAT WE LEARNED FROM ALL THAT CANDY AND HANGING AROUND
I started going to those corner shops in the winter of 1966. I left for university, in Toronto, in the fall of 1974. In those eight years, I was immersed in "mom and pop" corner store culture. I knew everything about them. I was there so often, I heard them talking to sales people about their next order. I knew when the next shipment of comics was coming into Bamfords Store, and when the fresh boxes of hockey cards were going to arrive. If I wasn't in the store itself, to overhear these high level discussions, I'd be sitting on the two by four railing, and listening through the screen door. I was often first to see the owners unpack the new displays issued shopkeeps, from coke and Pepsi delivery personnel, and lots of other product advertising, that I'd beg for as soon as it was unfolded and placed by the pop cases. That always pissed me off. I never once got one of those Coke Santa displays, because, as I found out later, some collector routinely offered them money to save it for them. I was still working the honor system back then. I ask for the stuff, and you…..the store owner, say in return, "You are the first person to ask for it…..so it will be yours when the promotion is over." That seemed fair to one and all. I find out now they were selling stuff like this off, without even suggesting I make counter-offers. I had money. I could have raised even more. I was a hustler, as well as a pain in the ass.
On a hot summer night, it was just great to hang out there, listening to the air conditioner and its constant drip onto the asphalt. We'd sit there, slowly sipping one of those ice cold pops, pulled out of the chest Coke cooler with the ice cold water and the linked metal track and gates. Lil and Cec had one of these but they disabled the coin slot, as they liked it better, when you paid at the counter. When it was fully engaged, every third person had to beg assistance, because the coinage hadn't open the locked track. I always remember the ice cold sensation of that near-frozen water, on those sweltering days of late July. "Teddy, just take the pop and close the lid please," Lil would ask me kindly. I was a third responder, so by time she had asked me nicely twice, the third was like a sonic boom, to "close the damn lid kid!" Each of the proprietors had a threshold, and I like to think I helped them reach it, each day, when they'd see me for the first of twelve visits, until the last silhouette of me leaving, a minute before closing. "That kid is going to drive me nuts," was the chorus of final statements whispered in my honor.
I will always have a soft spot for nostalgia. I will always experience a mildly compelling sensation, to visit a corner store, just for old time's sake…..to see if they still carry black balls and sweet tarts. It was part of my upbringing and the shop owners were alternate parents, and they disciplined us when necessary. They'd put us to work as well, especially at Bamfords, where caretaking around the cottages was getting a little much for Fred and Mary Bamford. I can remember standing with Fred Bamford one day, as he was explaining what clean-up work he wanted me to do, in return for treat money, and two chickadees landed on his head. He had put birdseed in his hair. Then there was a chipmunk on his foot, where he had also hidden some seeds. This was odd, but the squirrel in one hand, and the eventual blue jay on the other, was unprecedented. He was just like that, and as the owner of Bamford's Woods, a small acreage across from our apartment, he allowed us to play in the urban park whenever we so desired. Honestly, he was the kindest person I've ever known. The creatures of that little woodlot were his best mates, and this wasn't the only time I saw him with critters on his head and eating from his hands.
Today, I don't really know how all these corner store, cent candy and nostalgia purchases, influenced me to morph into the collector / dealer I am today. But I think more than anything else, it was all about the accommodations they made for us, allowing the whole kid nation of that blue collar neighborhood, to use their stores as convenient meeting places. I loved the way they pleasantly cluttered their shops, the aroma of sweets, and the visuals of product labeling and seasonal promotions I so looked forward to. I loved the creaking old wood floors, and the sound of the swinging screen door, the way it whacked hard on the way in, and even harder on the way out, as we ran off with our treats half-in-mouth, the rest hanging out of our pockets. I remember a little bastard lighting a string of mini firecrackers I had hanging out of my pocket, with a lighter he'd taken from his father. You want to talk about a scorched behind. I ran, dropped, rolled, and ran all over the place, my shorts smoking well down the street. Good times. Just so you know, I knocked the same kid's box of Lucky Elephant out of his hands, the very next time we had a face to face, and my friend's dog ate the candied popcorn off the driveway. The kid ran home crying and that dog farted and farted for the rest of the day.
I'm a sucker for this kind of nostalgia…..even shared stories of corner store experiences my readers have also enjoyed. You know, we still have boxes and boxes of hockey and baseball cards, and I think the boys have some Beatles Cards I purchased way back when, in one of those mom and pop corner stores, where the culture was commerce, but the setting was small town Ontario. It was rural immersion, and a pleasant pre-occupation from everything else that was going on around town in the late 1960's. My mother once admitted, "I don't know what we would have done without Lil and Cec, and good old Fred Bamford, looking after you." I have to admit, it would have been a much different childhood without their participation in my upbringing.
I'm really glad you came for a visit today. By the end of this coming weekend, I will hit a milestone that honestly, I couldn't have imagined a year ago, when I began blogging daily. While I don't celebrate every time I register another ten thousand hits, I am awfully impressed, that I will soon hit 50,000 views in a matter of several days. Now this isn't daily like some celebrity bloggers. That would be neat though. It's not a weekly or monthly milestone, and admittedly that would also be neat. It's the number of hits or views I've had since November of 2011. I was knocked off my feet, when I hit ten thousand. Now I'm still averaging between 280 and 350 daily, which is quadruple what I was receiving only four months ago. Hey, I don't take any reader for granted, and I want to earn your trust, and write pieces that are insightful and a little risque at the same time. Entertaining would also be nice. Like I say, I appreciate status quo and complacency when it comes to the plumbing and shingles here at Birch Hollow, and with the operation of the family vehicle, but for most other things, I like them to be exciting and a little unpredictable. It's how I've operated as a dealer and collector from the beginning. That's a condition of the profession, where I might bring home a portion of dinosaur bone, with a box of old books, a couple of vintage baseball gloves and bats, a 1960's bike with basket on the handlebar, and maybe even a Boston rocker for the shop. Possibly even a painting to go with the folk-art sculpture of a futuristic lawnmower I couldn't live without. So in other words, a life and times as unpredictable as I remember it from childhood. Please come again soon for another visit. I've got some dandy stories to tell, so I need an audience.
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