Muskoka Antiques; Valuations Are Precarious, I Miss Antique Hunter, Rene Huard

Three Dimensional Art Hanging In The Music Studio

Not A Jackson Pollack But We Like It Anyway

THE PIE-IN-THE-SKY AND HOW IT BURDENS THE ANTIQUE COMMUNITY -

THE PARADE OF FOLKS WHO BELIEVE THEY MADE THE BIG SCORE - AND WE HAVE TO BREAK THEIR HEARTS

     THE PROBLEM WITH ANTIQUE EVALUATION, AND RELATED ADVENTURE SHOWS, PEAKING THE AMBITIONS OF HOBBY TREASURE HUNTERS, IS THAT WE GET THE UNFORTUNATE END RESULT OF DELUSIONAL THINKING. THEY DON'T SHOW THIS AFTERMATH ON TELEVISION, BECAUSE IT WOULD ADVERSELY AFFECT THE POSITIVE SPIN OF THE SHOW, BUT THEY DAMN WELL SHOULD. IT FALLS UNDER THE HEADING, "NEVER LET TRUTH GET IN THE WAY OF A GOOD STORY." WE GET LOTS OF WIDE-EYED, SOON-TO-BE-RICH, ANTIQUE AND COLLECTABLE HOBBYISTS, WHO SHOW UP AT OUR STORE, WITH A LARGE VARIETY OF TREASURE, THEY BELIEVE WE'RE GOING TO BE ANXIOUS TO BUY. I HATE, WITH A PASSION, HURTING ANYONE'S FEELINGS, LET ALONE THOSE OF THE HUNDREDS WE HAVE TO LET DOWN POLITELY, WHO WERE ALREADY PLANNING OUT WHAT THEY WERE GOING TO DO WITH THE CASH. MOST STORE-FRONT DEALERS THESE DAYS, HAVE HAD THIS UNPLEASANT FALL OUT, OF WHAT IS CONSIDERED A POPULAR TELEVISION (AND ONLINE) TREND. TRUTH IS, THERE ARE FAR MORE EXAMPLES OF LESS THAN ACCURATE APPRAISAL, ESPECIALLY WHEN H0BBYISTS HAVE BEEN WATCHING THESE SHOWS ON TELEVISION. I COULD WRITE A BOOK ABOUT THESE MISINTERPRETED EVALUATIONS. IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN THAT THEY'VE MISUNDERSTOOD THE APPRAISER, ON WHATEVER SHOW THEY WERE WATCHING. I'VE HEARD IT SO MANY TIMES..."BUT THEY SAID!"
   EVERY WORTHWHILE APPRAISAL HAS TO BE COMPLETED IN PERSON, AND BY AN EXPERT IN THAT PARTICULAR FIELD. SITTING AT HOME, ARTIFACT IN HAND, ISN'T CLOSE ENOUGH. YOU'D BE AMAZED BY HOW MANY PHONE CALLS WE GET AT HOME, TO APPRAISE ITEMS LIKE BOOKS AND PAINTINGS. "WHY CAN'T YOU DO IT OVER THE PHONE?" I'VE ALWAYS WAITED FOR ONE OF THE SMART ASSES TO REPLY, "IF YOU CAN HAVE SEX OVER THE PHONE, YOU MUST BE ABLE TO MAKE AN APPRAISAL." WHEN WE REFUSE, THEY GET REALLY PISSED-OFF, BECAUSE THE FOLKS ON THE TELEVISION MADE IT SEEM WE WERE AVAILABLE FOR APPRAISALS DAY AND NIGHT. I'M SORRY TO SAY THIS, BUT I DON'T OFFER MUCH SUPPORT FOR ANY OF THESE TELEVISION SHOWS, THAT AS A CORE VALUE, WANT TO CREATE EXCITEMENT VIA ANTIQUE SPECULATION. IT'S THE CORE OF OUR BUSINESS, BUT WE DON'T OFFER PIE-IN-THE-SKY APPRAISALS.
    MY FAVORITE ANTIQUE RELATED TELEVISION PROGRAM WAS THE CANADIAN SHOW CALLED "THE ANTIQUE HUNTER," WITH HOST RENE HUARD. I USED TO WATCH THAT DELIGHTFUL HALF HOUR SHOW, EVERY SATURDAY MORNING, BEFORE GOING OUT ON OUR OWN ANTIQUING ROAD TRIPS. THIS WAS AN HONEST, UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL ROAD SHOW, THAT PUT A LOT OF EMPHASIS ON THE CONNECTION BETWEEN TOURISM AND COLLECTING; AND IT WAS A SHOW THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN PICKED UP INTERNATIONALLY, NO FOOLING, BECAUSE IT HAD A LOT OF POTENTIAL FOR EXPANSION THROUGHOUT THE WORLD. HUARD WAS AN OUTSTANDING HOST, AND HE WAS DOWN TO EARTH IN HIS APPROACH TO OUR INDUSTRY. TO BORROW ONE OF HIS PHRASES, "I WAS IN SERIOUS-LIKE WITH THAT SHOW." THE PORCH JAM SESSION AT THE END WAS GREAT TOO. HOW ABOUT BRINGING THAT BACK TO PRIME TIME TELEVISION, AND GIVING US ANTIQUE DEALERS AND COLLECTORS SOMETHING BETTER TO WATCH....WITHOUT ALL THE APPRAISALS. JUST OLD FASHIONED HUNTING AND GATHERING, THE WAY I GREW INTO THE PROFESSION AS AN ADVENTURE-SEEKING KID. NOW, BOOT ME IN THE BUM, IF I'M WRONG, AND THE SHOW IS STILL ON THE AIR VIA OTHER CHANNELS. I'M LIVING IN THE DARK AGES, YOU SEE, AND WE ONLY HAVE ONE CHANNEL LEFT, NOW THAT WE WERE DENIED CBC WHEN THE WHOLE WORLD WENT DIGITAL, AND WE WERE LEFT WITH ANALOGUE.
     I used to watch several of these appraisal shows, and Andrew and I even participated in a local event, being held as a fundraiser. I don't watch them anymore, and I certainly would never be a show participant. I found myself, giving much higher evaluations than were warranted, because these people paid money to get a good story. The problem is, that a store-front dealer, usually a generalist, has to yield to market value in the home region. I heard, time and time again, other dealers using the reference..."In Toronto it would sell for....." I refused to do this, and started to offer some realistic prices, that these same items would sell for through any store-front shop, or antique mall booth, but not specifically ones in the city. In each case, I upset the owners of the items, because they would have also run the same piece, by a few of the other dealers at the event, getting much higher evaluations than I could honestly provide. "That's way low," they argued. "That lady over there, told it me it would sell at auction, for five hundred dollars." I got better, as the day went on, nodding, smiling, and answering, "Is that right?"
     When it is referenced, that an antique piece, or art work, "would sell at auction.....," the owner, in most cases, is led down the proverbial garden path, plain and simple. I have yet to see one of those television shows, point out clearly, after each time this reference is made, how difficult it can be, to have an item accepted at a well known auction house. If the auction they're talking about, is the monthly sell-off of citizen wares, held at the local sale barn, this is distinctly different, than if they're instead referring to a major auction house, known for its regular sales of fine antiques and art. They purposely don't specify, yet both are auctions, but the results would be alarmingly different in prices realized. They also don't explain in detail, the selection process, for auctions, and the fees you are going to pay, if your antique etc., does make the grade. They don't auction your stuff for free. These shows conveniently omit noting just how high the commission rates can be, plus any other expenses, that are incurred on your behalf, to sell the subject antique or art work. They also never explain, that the whole auction thing, is a gamble from the get-go. You can have a piece fall way below the estimated value, and there is no apology offered at the end of the day. At least on a consignment arrangement, with a shop, or selling through an online antique site, you can set the lowest price you find acceptable, and refuse to budge. Just as an example, our consignment fee is twenty-five percent, and I've heard amounts as high as sixty percent, which seems a tad high. It's free enterprise so who am I to say. While you can set a reserve bid at an auction, I've always found that auctioneers, on the smaller stage, at least, don't like setting them as a rule.....unless there is something quite compelling about the piece; or the host is determined to get the amount desired, or keep the piece.
     While these show events have brought the care and conservation of antiques and collectables to the forefront, which is good, the fact they have unleashed those who misinterpret these on-air evaluations, upon us on a daily basis, is a real drag on what is normally a very friendly industry. When we don't agree with the appraisals they got, indirectly, from their favorite shows, we soon become the scourge of the antique community. They think we're trying to rip them off, because our estimates are much lower than they were led to believe, by a "for ratings" television show. Here's an example, of just one small but poignant encounter in our store, with one such hobby treasure hunter. This individual arrived at the front counter, of our Gravenhurst store, with a box of old home movies, and a film viewer. He seemed a little pensive, and this is exactly what we look for, because, unfortunately, almost every week we are approached with what, are most likely, stolen (borrowed without permission) articles. So we have to screen each seller, and obtain detailed information about where the items came from, in case we should want to contact the source, to make sure nothing being sold was ill-gotten. We are very concerned about musical instruments, as there have been many recent thefts reported in the province, which can be researched online. We have busted a few thieves this way, and happily returned guitars to their owners.
     The seller, in this case, cleared all the hurdles, explaining that he had purchased the film collection from a yard sale locally, and thought they might be worth something, especially as there was some regional footage from the early 1960's. When we tried to ascertain what he had as an asking price, the young man jumped into action-mode, saying, "I know all about what you're doing here, and how this works; when I give you the price I want, you try to beat me down, right? I saw this on television. You guys are hard to beat." This is the part where we stare in amazement, and at the end of our pondering, wonder silently why we joined this profession. We just shake our heads and look out the window, in case there's some wisdom floating by, we could harvest for a decent, insightful, non-provocative response. We can't find anything that fits, except, "Kid, you watch too much television." Now how do you explain to a brain-washed seller, that we're not going to beat anybody down in price, because it turns us on. We just happen to have a budget that we must adhere, if we wish to open the shop for another month. It's pretty simple. We have to get a mark-up. This doesn't mean our profit depends on a seller's loss. Well, this fellow was certain, that our explanation was part of the show, and I remember him saying, after we did arrive at a price eventually, "Hey, you guys are good." By that, I assume he meant, proficient at slam dunking big (unrealistic) dreams.
     As I wrote about, earlier in January, Suzanne had a bloke arrive at the counter, one afternoon before Christmas, with a box of odds and ends, firmly of the belief, we were going to go wild about his so-called treasures. As they say, if we had just one nickel for every time we've heard something similar....well, we could retire to an Algonquin Park cabin and write poetry all day. So the fellow began unloading his box of china and crystal, and with each unveiling, would look at Suzanne, as if expecting an expression of utter astonishment, as if seeing the very next holy grail, placed on the counter. Once he had shown her the dozen or so pieces, of which two were chipped and valueless, he then asked if we were going to call in the pickers, as he had seen on one of these television shows. "What pickers," she asked. "You know, the ones who you're supposed to call-in, to come and see stuff like this," as he waved his arm over the items on the desk....as if they had just been pulled out of a pirate chest. "But you do know this isn't a television show, right," she responded, still looking in disbelief, at the man glowing over the items he believed would fetch many hundreds of dollars. The unfortunate bottom line here, is that all-told, we could not have offered a dollar for the whole lot. What wasn't chipped, was checked, stained, and china you could buy just about anywhere in the nineteen sixties. Even the salt and pepper shakers didn't match, or the cups and saucers. While he was wrapping up the pieces again, there was some obvious chagrin going on, and muttering about the big deal he was going to offer the shop up the road. Dealers, by the way, are devilish enough, to quite enjoy a little practical joke, and yes, sometimes it's at a seller's expense. I'd regret doing this, if the seller was understanding of our estimates, and didn't call us, in an audible whisper, "you ...holes," on the way out the door. For the nasty pieces of work, we most definitely send them to our competition, as they do to us, in a regular exchange of numb-nuts, that goes back centuries in the profession. Sort of like chess but more fun. Back in the day of Charles Dickens, it was called "fobbing-off," and as we don't have as much fun here, as some enterprises, we take full advantage of brightening someone else's day, with ridiculous buy-sell scenarios, that are usually stranger than fiction. It's reciprocal, so we'll expect a garden variety "nutter" in return, some day down the road. Now this is inside stuff, that I'm allowing you to read about. Under cross examination, our colleagues in the profession, will never admit to this, except when we share a glass of wine at a show and sale, or a coffee down the road....getting a laugh. "Gosh, it was the most exciting thing that happened all week....thanks for sending him down." Of course, it does backfire from time to time, because low and behold, some of these sellers, occasionally do have something to sell, at home, they didn't show us....because, well, we were too intent on fobbing them off to the antique shop down the lane. The correct way to deal with this, of course, is to always ask if they have anything else they might like to sell, other than the junk they've burdened the counter with.
     There are lots of unfortunate stories, about people who come to sell us antiques and collectables. Back in the early years of the recession, of the 1990's, I can remember so many sad encounters with sellers, right down to their last dollar, hoping against hope, to raise enough, selling their last few possessions, to buy food and necessities for their family. I remember getting called out to a car once, pulled up out front, to check on some things for sale in the trunk. There was nothing of any use whatsoever, and even if they'd thrown in the car, I couldn't have given them more than fifty bucks. What was most disturbing, and memorable, about this encounter, was that it gave every appearance of also being a place of residence. There were two youngsters in the back seat, surrounded by what appeared to be, household materials, just shy of lamps and end tables. They didn't have enough money for gas let alone food, and the older woman explained, at the side of the car, that her daughter had been abandoned by her husband, and she was trying to survive for a few months, camping in the car at various parks. It was in the mid autumn period, and the nights were pretty cold. In these tough years, that knocked us down as well, we saw many similar situations, and honestly, it made me want to quit the business. Those in crisis thought we operated on the same business plan as a pawn shop. It still happens today. They want to pawn their guitars or china dish-set, for an unspecified amount of money, and then come back for it in a month's time. In the case of the woman and her kids living in the car, I gave them enough money for food and gas, as well as providing them some of my old contacts in social services, I knew as a former newspaper editor. I ran our till out of its float, but fortunately everyone had exact change for the next few transactions during that afternoon. But you don't forget situations like this. By the way, I didn't take any of their possessions in return for the cash. Suzanne thinks I'm soft, in this regard, and she's right. That is, until I catch her doing the same thing.
     One of my favorite moral stories, from our many years in the antique trade, involves my general lack of attention as a shop clerk. Back in the days of our former Birch Hollow store-front, on Manitoba Street, in Bracebridge, I took over the antique shop entirely, when I left the newspaper business, in the early 1990's. I make a crappy employee, and managers come to loathe me about fifteen minutes into our relationship, so I just decided to manage our business, while Suzanne continued to work as a high school teacher. She became my teacher, as she was very experienced in the retail trade, from her upbringing in a small business family. She gave me a whole stapled-together list of things to pay attention to, while running the little uptown, basement shop. The item on the bottom of the last page, was regarding shop-lifters. There was no wordy explanation, other than to remind me to be extra vigilant while in the shop, about what can be slipped into a coat pocket, or under a shirt. Now, just to footnote in advance, I was ripped-off about twenty times in five years, and I've always figured that was pretty good at solving the crimes and getting restitution. I caught four of the perpetrators, who paid handsomely, so that I would not involve the police. I suppose it was a form of extortion, but I figured that it saved court costs, for the government, and gave these folks a second chance to do change their ways. So I did get better at dealing with the criminal element, as time went by, and I gained on-the-job experience as well.
     Suzanne used to walk from the Bracebridge High School, (when it was in the central part of town), to join me for lunch. On this blustery winter afternoon, she left, just as a group of three customers were coming into the store. She came back down the stairs, to ask me if I wanted her to stay for a few extra minutes, as she was a little worried about the girl who had arrived with her male friends. There was a history here, that I didn't know, and one Suzanne couldn't share. I said that it was unnecessary, and suggested she was going to be late if she delayed another minute. What happened next was textbook, for shoplifters in training. One of the lads in this small group, began engaging me in conversation, the moment Suzanne had left the building. He seemed a rather intelligent fellow, and we had a nice discussion about certain collectables of which he was interested; while the other male, and female browsed around the store.  They weren't in the store for very long, but they all seemed friendly, and each gave a favorable review of the shop upon departure. Did I mention that we're suckers for compliments. After they exited the building, and I just stood there, with arms folded, thinking, "what nice young people," I couldn't help noticing that a small baby quilt was missing, off a stand near the hall leading to the stairs. It was a brightly colored quilt that Suzanne made at home, and had only just brought into the shop that week. And as it had been a focal point, because of its colors, it wasn't happenstance at all, that I noticed it missing, as it had been catching my eye for several days. When I ran around the counter, to see if it had somehow become dislodged from the stand, and hopefully just crumpled on the floor, I knew what had happened before I arrived. The baby quilt had been stolen. The gentleman who had been cheerfully chatting with me, had occupied my attention, so that the piece could be stuffed under a coat by one of the other two in the group. Do you know, I was so embarrassed, I couldn't tell Suzanne, and had actually cooked-up a plan, to make up a fake invoice, and cover the cost of the quilt out of pocket.
     One afternoon, she was getting ready to leave the store, after lunch, and we were standing at the top of the stairs, looking out onto the snowy expanse, of Manitoba Street. Coming through the spray of snow, was a young lady pulling a wagon (may have been a buggy. but I don't think so), and Suzanne immediately recognized the mother, and turned immediately to ask me, why I hadn't told her, that she had purchased the baby quilt the afternoon she came into the shop. "What are you talking about," I asked, trying to sound surprised by the question. "Well, that's my quilt covering the baby, so she must have bought it from you," she stated, without the slightest doubt, I wasn't being entirely forthcoming. "How do you know it was your quilt," I asked, as the woman and child passed the store-front. "For one thing, there is a quilt missing downstairs, and number two, I made that quilt with leftover pieces I had from another one....so there can't be two identical quilts in this town, at this moment." Do you remember Lucy getting into all those debacles, trying to deceive Ricky, on the old "I Love Lucy" television show. Let's just say I had a lot of "splaining to do!" I was once again busted by the truth police. She had noticed it missing, on the afternoon she came back to the store after work. She just wanted me to eventually explain why it was gone. To that point, I hadn't made up a bogus receipt, to cover my failure as a store clerk. On this occasion, she just watched as her stolen quilt slid past the shop, comforting a child on a cold winter day. "I think she stole it, while I was talking to one of the guys she was with," I sheepishly confessed. "Are you going to get it back," I asked. She shot back, "And leave that child without a warm covering....I don't think so.....but I will let her know, in my own way, that she committed a crime.....and hopefully it will bother her enough, that she won't come back in here again." It was a student, and she did later remark, about the lovely quilt she had the baby wrapped in, when the girl arrived in her family studies office, one morning, child in arms. No action was taken. But I was reminded how important it was to pay attention to the store, I was the steward of....and limit my conversations with folks I wasn't familiar. At least until I got to know them as regular customers.
     When we used to sell hockey and baseball cards, back in the early 1990's, we seemed to attract more shoplifters, and I had to step-up my game, that's for sure. The most distressing part to me, was that the thieves weren't just the young lads, looking to bulk up their collections. I had one middle-aged woman, who, I found out later, had been stealing cards off me regularly, and actually bragging to her friends how stupid I was as a dealer. Let's just say, that as stupid as she thought I was, during the retelling of her exploits, she became the mirror of stupidity, when I was able to secure a confession by simply making the statement, "I know what you've taken from the shop, and the total you owe me is......." She had that money counted out on the counter in less than thirty seconds, and thanked me for not contacting the police. "Why did I need to call the police," I said. "You were just making a purchase....weren't you." I wish I could have got everything that was stolen, in those years, back, or paid for, by similar enterprise. I figure we lost several thousand dollars in those thefts. We have lost items in our present shop, including items as large as guitars, but we've foiled five of ten shoplifting events....which included a full-scale break-in, that cost us five thousand dollars in inventory. Thanks to the work of the Ontario Provincial Police, and the Provincial Court, we were adequately compensated when the thief was caught, and ordered to repay his debt to us. We did recover ninety percent of the items stolen, and flogged to regional hock shops.
     But despite all this, we really do have good times in this profession, that make up for some of the lesser experiences.