DAVE BROWN THOUGHT AND ACTED AS A COLLECTOR - I NEEDED TO PROFIT FROM ACQUISITIONS
THE TUTOR DID HIS JOB WELL - I GOT THE MESSAGE
DAVE BROWN AND I WENT TO AN ESTATE SALE AT A BALA COTTAGE, ONE DAY IN EARLY JULY, NOT LONG BEFORE DAVE WAS DIAGNOSED WITH LEUKEMIA, THE ILLNESS THAT WOULD EVENTUALLY FELL THE STALWART COLLECTOR LIKE A GREAT WHITE PINE. (DAVE WAS A LOGGING HISTORIAN) I HATED THE DRIVE FROM GRAVENHURST TO BALA AND BACK. HE HAD FAILING EYESIGHT BUT REFUSED TO GET THEM CHECKED OUT. SO WE SPENT A LOT OF TIME ON THE SHOULDERS OF HIGWAY 169.
AS A FORMER REPORTER / PHOTOGRAPHER, HERE IN MUSKOKA, I SPENT A LOT OF TIME COVERING ACCIDENTS ON THAT STRETCH OF ROADWAY, ESPECIALLY IN THE SUMMER MONTHS. A SUBSTANTIAL NUMBER OF HORRIFIC ACCIDENTS WERE CAUSED BY MOTORISTS TAKING TOO MUCH FOR GRANTED ABOUT THE STABILITY OF THE SHOULDERS, AND THERE ARE SOME NASTY DECLINES AND ROCK OUTCROPPINGS ADJACENT TO THIS MAJOR ARTERY AROUND LAKE MUSKOKA. I WAS GOING FOR THE INVISIBLE BRAKE ON THE PASSENGER SIDE, LET ME TELL YOU. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING THAT FOR," DAVE ASKED. "I'M WISHING I HAD MY OWN BRAKE PEDAL…..BECAUSE YOU'RE GOING TOO FAST, AND DRIVING ON THE SHOULDER OF THE ROAD," I ANSWERED; BUT HE WAS TOO PREOCCUPIED WITH WHAT HE WAS GOING TO FIND AT THIS ESTATE SALE……TO WORRY ABOUT ROADSIDE ROCK OUTCROPPINGS, AND WHAT ONE WOULD TASTE LIKE, THROUGH THE SHATTERED GLASS OF THE WINDSHIELD.
I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS STORY IN MANY PREVIOUS BLOGS, SO I WON'T BEAT IT TO DEATH HERE AND NOW. TO SUMMARIZE, DAVE HAD BEEN TO THIS SALE THE NIGHT BEFORE, (BECAUSE HE PHONED THEM FROM HAMILTON) AND HAD PICKED UP SOME HISTORIES HE WANTED FROM THE FORMER COTTAGE OWNER'S PRIVATE LIBRARY. THE DECEASED PROPERTY OWNER, HAD BEEN A DOCTOR, AND THERE WERE SOME VINTAGE MEDICAL BOOKS, AND THE HOLY GRAIL IN THIS CASE, WAS A COLLECTION OF WESTERN AMERICANA, THAT DAVE WANTED VERY BADLY. THE OWNER HAD LEFT THEM TO HIS GRANDSON, AND NO AMOUNT OF NEGOTIATING WAS GOING TO FREE UP THOSE BOOKS. HE TRIED. MONEY WASN'T THE ISSUE. THE KID JUST WANTED TO KEEP WHAT HIS GRANDFATHER HAD SO KINDLY LEFT HIM IN HIS WILL. MAYBE HE WOULD READ THEM, MAYBE THEY WOULD SIT ON A BOOK SHELF IN HIS APARTMENT, COLLECTING DUST. IT DIDN'T MATTER. THE DECISION HAD BEEN MADE. DAVE NEVER TOOK "NO" FOR AN ANSWER. HE ALWAYS LEFT THE DOOR OPEN, AND A NEGOTIATION FOR SOMETHING HE WANTED, ON HIATUS, BUT NEVER CONCLUDED UNLESS HE GOT ALL THAT THE WANTED. THIS WASN'T GOING TO HAPPEN ON THIS DAY.
AS DAVE HAD WEASELED HIMSELF INTO THE ANGLICAN CHURCH SALE, IN BRACEBRIDGE, AN HOUR BEFORE THE BOOK SALE WAS TO HAVE BEGUN (SEE A PREVIOUS BLOG ON DAVE BROWN), BECAUSE THAT WAS HIS COMPETITIVE ADVANTAGE OVER EVERYONE ELSE, HE HAD ARRANGED TO MEET WITH THIS FAMILY THE EVENING BEFORE THEIR COTTAGE YARD SALE ON THE MOON RIVER ROAD, I BELIEVE. HE EVEN CAME BACK TO OUR HOUSE, WITH A TRAY OF BUTTER TARTS THE FAMILY HAD GIVEN HIM, AS A THANKS FOR THE ITEMS HE DID PURCHASE FROM THE ESTATE. ONCE AGAIN THE SNEAKY BUGGER BEAT ME TO THE BEST OF THE BEST. WELL, NOT QUITE. SO DURING OUR SOCIAL EVENING HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, HE TRIED TO COME UP WITH A WORKABLE STRATEGY TO BEAT THE KID OUT OF THOSE WESTERN HISTORIES. NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES WE TRIED TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT, IT ALWAYS CAME BACK TO THOSE BOOKS, AND THAT STUBBORN KID. I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO BE A REAL TREAT, IF HE GOT OUT THERE AGAIN ON THE SATURDAY MORNING, AND NEGOTIATIONS DIDN'T GO WELL. I KNOW FOR FACT HE HAD A BIG WAD OF CASH, SO IT WAS OBVIOUS TO ME THESE BOOKS WERE SOMETHING SPECIAL. WHY ELSE WOULD HE WANT TO DRIVE BACK TO BALA, FOR THE REGULAR YARD SALE? HE'D SEEN WHAT WAS BEING PUT IN THE SALE, ON THE FRIDAY NIGHT. SO THOSE BOOKS WERE THE REASON; NOT JUST BEING KIND TO ME; THE TEACHER-STUDENT BONDING THING COULD HAVE DONE WITHOUT ANOTHER TRIP TO BALA……DRIVING THE SHOULDERS ALL THE BLOODY WAY.
DAVE OBSESSED ABOUT THINGS, AND IT WAS WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE ABOUT DEALING WITH HIM, IN THIS BOOK ACQUISITION THING. I TOLD SUZANNE TO GET ME SOME HELP IF I EVER STARTED BEHAVING LIKE DAVE, AND BECOMING EMOTIONALLY CONSUMED BY WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A HOBBY. I MEAN HE WASN'T BUYING AND SELLING BOOKS. IF YOU TRIED TO BUY ONE OFF HIM, IT'S POSSIBLE….NO, VERY LIKELY, HE WOULD GET OFFENDED, AND THEN PHONE ME TO ASK IF I WOULD PLEASE FILL THE ORDER……..AS IT WAS BENEATH HIM TO SEARCH FOR THE TITLES IN HIS CRAMPED, BOOK LADEN HAMILTON HOUSE. DAVE NEVER HAD ANY INTENTION OF SELLING OFF HIS COLLECTION, AND HE DID EXPECT TO LIVE FOREVER.
THE QUEST FOR THESE WESTERN HISTORIES WAS OBSESSIVE AND WEIRD TO BOOT, AND DID I MENTION VERY UNCOMFORTABLE TO ME? WHERE THE SUBJECT MATERIALS (WESTERN HISTORIES) WERE ON THE BOOKSHELF, AND WHERE THE ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES, THAT I WANTED TO SEE, WERE SITUATED, PUT ME RIGHT BESIDE MR. BROWN, AND THE GRANDSON, WHO WAS SITTING AT A DINING TABLE HAVING A COFFEE AND A BUTTER TART. "I JUST DON'T WANT TO SELL THEM MR. BROWN," HE ANSWERED, FOR ABOUT THE FOURTH TIME. IF I'D RAISED MY HEAD YOU WOULD HAVE SEEN ME BLUSHING. OH BOY WAS I BLUSHING. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T WANT TO SELL THE BOOKS," DAVE INTERRUPTED. "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THEM," HE ASKED, WITH THE KIND OF SARCASM, SUGGESTING THE BOY PROBABLY WOULD NEVER READ A SINGLE PAGE IN THE COLLECTION. "THEY WERE IMPORTANT TO MY GRANDFATHER AND THEIR IMPORTANT TO ME," HE REPLIED. DAVE WAS DIGGING IN HIS BOOTS, LIKE A BULL GETTING READY TO CHARGE. I JUST BEGAN WANDERING OUT ON THE LAWN, LOOKING AT THE ITEMS THAT FAMILY MEMBERS WERE SETTING UP FOR THE 10 A.M. START TO THE SALE.
WHILE I COULD STILL HEAR DAVE WHINING AND FARTING, OVER THESE TEN OR SO BOOKS, I HAD A GREAT SORT THROUGH THE COLLECTION, AND PICKED UP A NUMBER OF TERRIFIC SOUVENIRS, AND SOME NATURAL HISTORY. I GOT SOME MOOSE ANTLERS, MOUNTED HANDSOMELY ON A NICELY AGED PIECE OF PINE, (SHOT IN THE 1930'S IN MUSKOKA) SOME GREAT DISHES AND OLD TOOLS FOR RESALE, AND WELL…….A SPECIAL SOUVENIR FROM ALBERTA. AT FIRST I DIDN'T BELIEVE MY GOOD FORTUNE, BUT THE DAUGHTER FROM THE ESTATE, TOLD ME EXACTLY WHAT IT WAS, AND THAT HER FATHER WOULD BE GLAD TO KNOW (IF HE WAS ALERT IN HIS HEAVENLY REWARD) THAT IT WENT TO A GOOD AND APPRECIATIVE HOME. THEY WERE LOVELY PEOPLE. DID I MENTION THAT PREVIOUSLY? THE SOUVENIR COST ME FIVE BUCKS. I COULD HARDLY WAIT TO TELL DAVE ABOUT MY BIG FIND. I THOUGHT I'D WAIT UNTIL WE GOT BACK TO THE TRUCK. HE WAS HAVING A LAST DITCH GO AT THE LAD BUT IT WASN'T WORKING. DAVE LEFT WITH ANOTHER PACKAGE OF BUTTER TARTS. THE WESTERN HISTORIES STAYED ON THAT SHELF UNIT. THIS WAS ONE COUP DAVE BROWN WAS DENIED. THE KID HELD TO HIS POSITION DESPITE WHAT I FOUND OUT LATER, WAS A FIVE HUNDRED DOLLAR OFFER. IF DAVE BROWN OFFERED FIVE HUNDRED FOR THOSE TEN BOOKS, THEN THEY WERE WORTH AT LEAST TRIPLE THAT AMOUNT OR MORE.
THE LAST STRAW WAS A VERY OLD SOUVENIR
Having been a hockey goalie for many years, on some pretty crappy clubs, I knew what it was like to feel dejected at the end of games. Whether we lost by one goal or seven, the feeling of failure was devastating, but over the years I kind of got used to it…..and found a little bit of joy in the recreational aspect of Canada's national sport. I hated losing but I would have been lost without being in the game. So I just learned how to play recreational hockey without getting crazy about victory at all cost. So when Dave came back to the truck, dejected and defeated, at the hands of this young man, I knew how he felt. As I hated to have my teammates congratulate me on a "good game," because it never was, I wasn't about to say a word regarding the fact, he was heading back to Gravenhurst, without having purchased anything more at this estate sale. In fact, he had become so enraged by the chap's unwillingness to part with the books, that he took the butter tarts, wished the hosts well, and stomped back to the truck, even though there were still some interesting new things that had just been placed out for sale…..a few he hadn't seen the night before, because they had been packed in boxes. This is the problem of being, as my mother used to call it….."penny wise and pound foolish." Or how about "a poor loser." By getting upset about what he couldn't purchase, he completely blinded himself to the possibility anything else of value might be turned out at that morning sale. While he was carrying on a pointless negotiation, I was cherry picking my way to several thousand dollars worth of highly salable inventory. I sold the moose antlers at the Antique and Classic Boat Show, at Gravenhurst's Sagamo Park, on the next Saturday, about ten minutes after opening. Dave probably would have purchased them for this Outdoor Education Centre, in Hamilton, but he was so pissed off, he wouldn't drop his snit long enough to have a look around, at what was actually for sale…….instead, spending all his time and energy brow-beating the owner of the books.
Just before we got back to Gravenhurst, he stopped muttering long enough to ask me what I had purchased from the estate. He was eating a butter tart at the time, (while hitting the gravel shoulder of Highway 169) and when I told him that I had bought a 1950's souvenir bone from Drumheller, Alberta, he must have inhaled some pastry, because we hit the shoulder three more times during a heavy coughing jag. He knew what that meant. I had just purchased a dinosaur bone from a Muskoka yard sale. They had so many dinosaur bones uncovered, in this area of Alberta, that they began selling them as souvenirs, and this one had come with a small toy dinosaur glued to the top. So would Dave Brown have wanted a dinosaur bone for his collection? You bet. Geez, it was like he got stabbed in the heart, twice on one bright and sunny summer morning. Dave only got speechless when he was either asleep or full of contempt. So he got mad at me and forgot the kid with the books. As my mentor, Dave would have anticipated, that for all his tutoring services, and inside tips, I would give up the historic piece of natural history…..that was a pretty neat souvenir, as souvenirs go. Well sir, I was not going to hand over this great find. In fact, it is still in my office here, with my collection of First Nations stone scrapers, some that have also been found at area yard and estate sales. On this occasion, Dave just gave one of those load Homer Simpson "Doah's" hit his leg hard enough to leave a red imprint, and silently retreated to his routine of hitting the shoulder of the road, and nearly getting us killed.
I have known many collectors and dealers, who let emotion get in the way of good business. By getting mad and in some cases vengeful, they would wind up hurting their profit potential, by literally salting the earth behind them. They could be terribly rude to sale hosts, and on many occasions, I've been in the right place at the right time…….when what would have been offered to them, as dealers…..was instead offered to me, batting clean-up…..and never being too proud to be considered "next in line," for "other pieces we've still got in the house." Dave didn't think in business terms because he didn't have one. I had no choice but to only think in business terms, because I was using business funds to make the purchases. If I made mistakes, or let my emotions get the better of the situation, I would very likely, have mirrored Dave's foibles, and come home without anything of value…..other than some short term satisfaction…..with butter tarts. This was the beginning of my own separation from my mentor, and he knew I'd learned my lessons well. I didn't need him to tell me what books to buy or what antiques were the most valuable. From the business experience I had picked up from many mentors, not just Dave, I was feeling pretty confident in my ability to sort out the money pieces from the showpieces. Showpieces are always nice to have, but may not sell as well, as those items known to have a quick turn-over in a shop, or antique sale setting. The moose antlers were a case in point(s). Dave didn't know I had tossed them into the back of the truck, and he let out another audible "doah" when he saw me reach for them, when we arrived back at Birch Hollow. I still had a lot to learn from Dave, and I continued to treat him with the utmost respect. But I knew his flaws, and I learned that a "snit" out on the hunt and gather adventures, was not an admirable quality to possess. The last thing you want to do is to annoy a sale host. This Bala family was very kind to both of us, in spite of the "attitude" Dave prevailed upon the otherwise happy gathering of kin. I'd like to say he learned from that "failure to acquire" occasion, but honestly, after the collecting life he had led to this point, he was just too set in his ways to change. I didn't try to change him. A few tried and failed over the years. You just accepted David Brown, worts and all. There were lots of things to get into snits about, as he moved forward, haunting estate sales, looking for good old books. Winning sometimes. Losing occasionally.
Dave never once patted me on the back, acknowledging "the Currie kid did okay today." He was incapable of doing this, and if he had volunteered it, I would have worried about the state of his mental health. The fact that he offered me the chance to write his biography, was clear demonstration, that he wanted someone who not only knew him well, but was his equal in many regards. For him to have turned his life and times over to me, for interpretation, knowing that he wouldn't be around to see it published, meant that he had come to terms with what his friends and colleagues thought of him…..surrendering that he wasn't going to be able to control the editorial copy, or the opinions about his collecting obsession. He knew the truth was going to come out, when the executors started sorting the 100,000 books jammed into his tiny bungalow. He had faith that I wouldn't judge him on one quirk, or one unfortunate event, but on the balance of his whole life's adventure. And that is exactly what I did. He had taught me well, by allowing me to see him battling in the trenches, for what he desired most. Sometimes I watched him succeed, scoring boxes of "money" books, and at other times, well, I watched him crash and burn. I've experienced both as well, and what collector hasn't?
As usual, it was wonderful to have you folks join me today. I hope you will be able to find the time to come back again, for more stories about antiques and collectibles…….as told by a Muskoka hunter and gatherer. See you soon.
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