Old Stamp Album and An Inscription, Birkenau Camp, and Growing Up Wild For Nostalgia

Old Stamp Album purchased at a Muskoka Thrift Shop

Inscription on top right of album cover page reads, "Ole Sorsensen 2 ma Birkenou" - German prison camp in Poland

STAMPS NOT REALLY MY THING - "COVERS" WELL, I KIND OF LIKE THEM

SOMETIMES WE BUY THE STRANGEST THINGS - BECAUSE SUDDENLY, IT'S AVAILABLE

    GEEZ, IT WAS SUNNY THIS MORNING. THE RUSSIANS HADN'T INVADED US YET. MY NEIGHBOR'S GARBAGE HADN'T BLOWN ONTO OUR PROPERTY, AND THERE WAS NO DOG POOP AT THE END OF THE LANE. A GOOD DAY WAS ABOUT TO UNFOLD.
    I HEARD GEESE IN FORMATION, FLYING OVERHEAD, AND THERE ARE A FEW BLOTCHES OF OPEN EARTH, NOW VISIBLE, DEEP IN THE BOG; PLACES WHERE THE FULL SUN HITS FOR MOST OF THE DAY. ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT, WAS GETTING INTO THE CAR, AND HITTING THE OPEN ROAD. ANDREW FELT THE SAME WAY, AND SEEING AS HE HAD SOME MUSIC PIECES TO PICK UP IN BRACEBRIDGE, WE JUST DECIDED TO POUR SOME COFFEE, BUTTER A SCONE, AND SET OUT FOR SOME OF OUR LOCAL SECOND HANDS SHOPS. JUST IN CASE, YOU SEE, WE COULD FIND SOME NEAT VINTAGE MERCHANDISE, THAT WOULD LOOK GREAT IN OUR GRAVENHURST SHOP.
    WE ALWAYS START OUT HOPEFUL, BUT AT LEAST FIFTY PERCENT OF THE TIME THESE DAYS, WE COME BACK SHAKING OUR HEADS, ABOUT THE WAY PRICES HAVE SHOT-UP, IN THESE LOCAL SECOND HAND AND THRIFT STORES. APPARENTLY EVERYONE'S AN ANTIQUE DEALER THESE DAYS. UNFORTUNATELY, MOST OF THE MANAGERS OF THESE SHOPS, BELIEVE THEY CAN PRICE LIKE ANTIQUE DEALERS, WITHOUT THE NONSENSE, AND WASTE OF TIME, HAVING FIRST ACQUIRED EXPERIENCE IN THE FIELD. "BEING AN ANTIQUE DEALER CAN'T BE SO HARD. WE'LL JUST SLAP A PRICE ON IT, AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS?" DAMN THING IS, MANY ILL-INFORMED CUSTOMERS BUY THIS OVERPRICED MERCHANDISE. HOW DO I KNOW THIS? WELL SIR, MANY OF THEM COME TO US WITH HIGH, HIGH HOPES, THAT WE WILL DOUBLE THEIR INVESTMENT. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MANY GUITARS HAVE COME INTO ANDREW'S SHOP, THAT WERE PURCHASED FROM THRIFT SHOP SILENT AUCTIONS, THAT COULD NOT BE REPAIRED. SOME OF THESE EVEN HAD RESERVE BIDS, THAT WERE WAY HIGHER THAN THE INSTRUMENTS WERE WORTH ACCORDING TO BOOK VALUES. TO SEE THE FACES OF THESE FOLKS, WHEN YOU TELL THEM THAT THE NECK, OR HOLLOW BODY OF A GUITAR, IS BEYOND FIXING, YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT A BAD DEAL LOOKS LIKE VIA FACIAL EXPRESSION, AND BODY CONTORTIONS. "OH CRAP, I THOUGHT YOU'D OFFER ME TWICE WHAT I PAID." WE REMIND THEM, THAT WE SCRUTINIZE EVERY SILENT AUCTION IN THE REGION, EVERY MONTH, WHETHER THE STORE STAFF KNOW IT OR NOT, AND IF THERE WAS A HEART-STOPPER PIECE, WE'D BE PUTTING A BID IN FOR OURSELVES.
    SOMETIMES, THESE OVER-PAYING AUCTION-ITES, BELIEVE THEY CAN FLIP WHAT THEY BOUGHT, FOR DOUBLE TO TRIPLE THE INVESTMENT. OH, IT REALLY HURTS WHEN YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM, THEY PAID A HUNDRED PERCENT OR MORE, ABOVE WHAT THE GUITAR IS WORTH. WE HAVE THE BOOKS FOR PRICING VINTAGE INSTRUMENTS AND VINYL, SO WE CAN SHOW THEM THE ACTUAL LISTING VALUATIONS. IF THEY HAD DONE THEIR RESEARCH BEFORE BIDDING, AND INCREASING THEIR BIDS OVER THE MONTH, THEY WOULDN'T HAVE SUFFERED THIS LOSS OF MONEY, ON A WIDE RANGE OF WHITE ELEPHANT PURCHASES. WHAT MAKES ME MAD, IS THESE SAME MANAGERS, HAVE DECIDED THAT ANYTHING OF SIGNIFICANT VINTAGE CAN'T BE PRICED FOR SALE ON THE FLOOR; ALL VALUATIONS HAVE TO COME FROM THE SILENT AUCTION BIDS. THE FAULTY LOGIC, IS THAT THE AUCTION SETS THE VALUATION. THE REALITY IS, IN MOST CASES, THEY COULD HAVE COME UP WITH A SALE PRICE ON THEIR OWN, AND COME WITHIN A FEW DOLLARS, OF WHAT AN AUCTION WOULD HIT; THUS, WE ALL WOULD HAVE HAD A CHANCE TO BUY THE ITEM WITHOUT HAVING TO WAIT FOR A MONTH, TO SEE IF OUR BID WAS THE HIGHEST. AS AN ANTIQUE DEALER, I CAN'T BASE MY INVENTORY GATHERING, ON ONE MONTH DELAYS, GETTING WHAT WE NEED. STORE MANAGERS BENEFIT FROM ANTIQUE DEALERS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, BUT WHEN IT COMES TO HOW THEY SELL OFF WHAT WE MOST DESIRE, AND REQUIRE TO KEEP OUR SHOPS FULL OF INVENTORY, THEY EXPECT US TO JUMP THROUGH HOOPS. WHAT IT DOES INSTEAD, BEYOND THE TEETH GNASHING, IS CAUSE US TO RE-DIRECT OUR MONEY, TO STORES THAT DO CATER TO ALL CUSTOMERS ON AN EQUAL AND FAIR BASIS. IF YOU THINK I'M BEING NARROW MINDED, AND SELF CENTERED ABOUT THIS, TAKE A LOOK AT THESE SILENT AUCTIONS NEXT TIME YOU PASS ONE. TRY TO FIND ANY NEW ITEMS IN THE SHOWCASES, AND MOUNTED ON THE WALLS. WHAT YOU WILL FIND, IS A PLETHORA (HUNDREDS OF ITEMS) OF VINTAGE COLLECTABLES, AND ANTIQUE ART, GLASS, POTTERY, CHINA, PAPER AND FURNITURE, THAT THE STORE MANAGEMENT IS EXPLOITING, KNOWING THEY WILL GET THE ATTENTION OF COLLECTORS AND DEALERS. THEY CERTAINLY GET OUR ATTENTION, THAT'S FOR SURE. THEY'RE TARGETING ANTIQUE AND COLLECTABLE HUNTERS. AND WE HAVE TO FIND WAYS TO GET AROUND IT, AND WE HAVE OUR WAYS. WE'RE TRAINED TO CHERRY PICK. IT'S THE ONLY WAY WE CAN SURVIVE.
     MISIDENTIFICATION RUNS RAMPANT. AND THEY PASS ON THIS ERROR IN JUDGEMENT TO THE CUSTOMERS, WHO WIND UP MANY TIMES, PAYING WAY MORE THAN A PIECE IS WORTH. IN THE CASE OF THE AUCTIONS, THESE SAME MANAGERS HAVE COMPLETELY SANITIZED WHAT USED TO BE PUT "ON THE SHOP FLOOR," FOR ANY ONE TO PURCHASE. NOW ANYTHING OF HERITAGE, OR THAT EVEN LOOKS OLD, IS PLACED IN THE SILENT AUCTIONS. THE SILLY ASS PART OF THIS, IS THAT THE AUCTIONS DON'T PREVENT CHERRY PICKING BY DEALERS, AS MANAGERS WISH TO LIMIT, BY REMOVING THESE ITEMS FROM DAY TO DAY SHOPPING. FOR SOME OF THE MONTH LONG AUCTIONS, I CAN STILL RESEARCH AND VALUATE PIECES, LONG BEFORE THE BIDDING CLOSES, TO KNOW EXACTLY HOW MUCH AN ITEM IS WORTH; AND IF IT JUSTIFIES THE EFFORT, I WILL BID, WHILE AT THE SAME TIME HATING THE ENTERPRISE. THE PRICE I BID, IN THE AUCTION, IS WHAT I'D PAY FOR THE ITEM, IF IT WAS ON THE SHOP FLOOR. FOR MANY, MANY SILENT AUCTIONS, THERE HAVE ONLY BEEN A FEW ITEMS THAT I CONSIDERED WORTHWHILE TO BID ON; AND ONE OF THESE CAME UP MOST RECENTLY, FOR A FRIEND OF MINE. ABOUT NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS SHORT OF THE MARK. IN OTHER WORDS, A GREAT BUY, FOR A LOW, LOW PRICE. IF THE SHOP HAD DONE ITS RESEARCH, WITH THE SAME ZEAL, AS IT FUNNELS ITEMS LIKE THIS INTO SILENT AUCTIONS, THEY WOULD HAVE FOUND OUT AN ACTUAL ART VALUATION BASED ON THE SUBJECT SCULPTOR. WE ANTIQUE FOLK RESEARCH TO EXHAUSTION, IN ORDER TO MAKE SENSIBLE PURCHASES. A DEALER DID HIS DUE DILIGENCE, AND CHERRY PICKED A NICE PIECE OF 1960'S METAL ART. IT MAY TURN OUT THAT AN OFFER RECEIVED, COULD NET THE CHAP A RECORD PROFIT OF NEARLY A GRAND. IT WILL BE FLIPPED FOR AN EVEN LARGE PRICE, IN AN URBAN MARKET SETTING. OCCASIONALLY WE DO GET THE BETTER OF THE DEAL. ART IS THE AREA MOST OFTEN UNDERVALUED, AND IT'S EXACTLY WHAT ATTRACTS US TO STUDY THESE SILENT AUCTIONS. KNOWING OF COURSE, THAT MOST PATRONS OF THE SHOP, EVEN OVER A MONTH'S TIME, WON'T HAVE ANY INTEREST IN THE DUE DILIGENCE THAT'S REQUIRED, TO PROPERLY RESEARCH THE PIECE(S) BEFORE THE FINAL DAY OF BIDDING. THIS GUARANTEES THAT THERE WILL BE A LOT OF MISTAKES MADE IN PERPETUITY, AS FAR AS PRICING AND EVALUATION IS CONCERNED.
    SO WHERE WE ONCE SHOPPED FREQUENTLY, MANY OF US HAVE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO ABANDON THEM, AND LOOK ELSEWHERE. DEALERS ALWAYS HAVE PLANS "B" AND "C". WE'VE CHANGED DIRECTION ABOUT A THOUSAND TIMES, SINCE WE'VE BEEN IN THE ANTIQUE PROFESSION, DUE TO SITUATIONS LIKE I'VE DESCRIBED. WE HAVE TO FIND THE BEST DEALS THAT WE CAN PROFIT FROM, AND IT MEANS WE HAVE TO JUMP ALL OVER THE PLACE, TO KEEP A FULL SHOP. IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL. BUT WE ALSO KNOW, THAT THE MORE WE BUY OF A CERTAIN COLLECTABLE, WE WILL BE INFLUENCING THE SILENT AUCTIONS OF THE FUTURE. AS A CASE IN POINT, AND NO FOOLING ABOUT IT: LOCALLY, YOU WILL NOT FIND A DECENT VINTAGE MUSICAL INSTRUMENT, IN THE MIDST OF GENERAL INVENTORY IN THESE SHOPS. WHY? REGIONALLY, THEY KNOW WE BUY THEM, FIX THEM UP, AND RESELL THEM TO OUR CUSTOMERS. THUS, WE MUST BE WILLING TO PAY MORE, MORE, MORE FOR THESE SAME PIECES. THEREFORE, THEY REFUSE TO PUT THEM ON THE FLOOR, AND WILL ONLY SELL THEM TO US IF WE ARE THE HIGHEST BIDDERS. SO WE DON'T BID ON THEM AT ALL. THEIR LOSS. WE CAN ALWAYS FIND MORE GUITARS TO RESELL.
    JUST SO YOU KNOW, WE WILL AGREE TO FIX THEM, IN CASE YOU BUY ONE. OOPS. I SHOULDN'T SAY THAT AS A GENERAL RULE. MANY CAN'T BE FIXED, AND WE KNOW THIS AHEAD OF TIME. WE STUDY THEM WELL IN ADVANCE, TO KNOW WHAT PROBLEMS A NEW OWNER WILL FACE, AND WHETHER IT COULD EVER BE TUNED PROPERLY AGAIN. MANY HAVE SUCH WARPED NECKS, THAT THEY CAN'T BE REPAIRED. IT'S TOO BAD THESE SHOPS HADN'T THOUGHT ENOUGH OF THEIR CUSTOMERS, TO FIND OUT IF THEY CAN BE REPAIRED, BEFORE THEY SLAP RESERVE BIDS ON, IN WHAT I FEEL IS A TOTAL CASE OF MISREPRESENTATION. ONE DECEMBER, AFTER A THRIFT SHOP AUCTION, A LADY BROUGHT US IN THREE ACOUSTIC GUITARS SHE HAD PURCHASED, AND WANTED RE-STRUNG AND CLEANED UP. THE IDEA WAS THAT SHE WAS GIVING THEM TO HER HUSBAND AS CHRISTMAS GIFTS. ALL THREE WERE BASICALLY BEYOND REPAIR. THE WOMAN WAS IN TEARS. ANDREW DECIDED TO HELP THE WOMAN OUT, AND HE HAD ALL THREE INSTRUMENTS IN CLAMPS, TRYING TO GET THEM READY FOR CHRISTMAS. THE PROBLEM WAS, OF COURSE, SHE WAS GIVING THEM TO SOMEONE WHO KNEW ALL ABOUT GUITARS, AND COULDN'T PLAY WITH EVEN SMALL IMPERFECTIONS IN THE INSTRUMENTS. SO NO MATTER WHAT MAGIC ANDREW WAS ABLE TO PERFORM, THE TUNING WAS ALWAYS GOING TO BE AN ISSUE. THE WOMAN WAS ABLE TO GET A REFUND ON ONE OF THE GUITARS, I BELIEVE, BUT AS THE MANAGER OF THE THRIFT SHOP POINTED OUT, ENTERING THESE AUCTIONS IS ALWAYS A CASE OF "BUYER BEWARE." THIS IS THE CASE WHEN BUYING SECOND HAND. IN AN AUCTION, THE RULES ARE DIFFERENT AND HAVE TO BE SPELLED OUT. ALL INFORMATION AND CONDITIONS REPORTS HAVE TO BE COMPLETE AND THOROUGH.
    THE OLD AND USED BOOKS, FOR EXAMPLE, HAVE MORE THAN TRIPLED, IN PRICE, IN SECOND HAND SHOPS, AND MOST OF THE TRULY INTERESTING ANTIQUE PIECES, HAVE ALL BEEN SCOOPED-UP, AND PLACED IN THEIR SILENT AUCTIONS, WHICH I SHIVER ABOUT IN SILENCE. I HAVE MANY MORE WORDS TO DESCRIBE THEM THAN JUST "DESPISE," BUT I DON'T WANT TO SHOCK YOU. THESE SHOPS HAVE CERTAINLY FORGOTTEN THE THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS WE'VE SPENT WITH THEM IN THE PAST. IF YOU'RE GOING TO EXPLOIT ANTIQUES, AS WE ARE ENTITLED, BECAUSE OF OUR OATH TO THE PROFESSION, THESE HALF-ASSERS, NEED TO BONE UP ON THEIR STUDIES; BECAUSE THERE'S A LOT MORE TO OUR PROFESSION THAN SPECULATION. AND THAT'S REALLY WHAT IT COMES DOWN TO, THESE DAYS. AND I'M AFRAID MORE DEALERS ARE SUCCUMBING ALL THE TIME, TO THIS WILD SPECULATION ON VALUATIONS. THERE'S A LOT OF GRUMBLING OUT THERE IN THE MARKET PLACE, AND WE SHOULD BE LISTENING. BUT WHEN THERE'S NOT POLICING, AND
     THIS IS PART OF THE REASON, ANTIQUE SHOP PRICES HAVE BEEN RISING AS WELL. I WOULD RATHER SHIFT MY INVENTORY, TO OTHER LESSER EXPENSIVE COLLECTABLES, THAN GET INVOLVED IN THE PRESENT NONSENSE. SOME ANTIQUE DEALERS HAVE GONE WILD WITH THEIR PRICING AS WELL. AND CONSIDERING THAT ANTIQUE DEALERS BUY OFF OTHER ANTIQUE SHOPS, THE ESCALATION OF PRICES WILL ONLY ABATE WHEN CUSTOMERS DECIDE TO STOPY BUYING. IT'S THE ONLY WAY TO KILL SILENT AUCTIONS AS WELL. IT'S HAPPENING. MANY CHARITY SHOPS HAVE ABANDONED THEM, AND I THINK THIS IS GREAT.
    EVERY TIME WE HEAD OUT ON A BUYING TRIP, WE ARE OPEN MINDED TO ALL KINDS OF ACQUISITIONS. SEEING AS WE HAVE TO JUSTIFY THE GAS WE'VE USED, AND THE TIME AWAY FROM THE SHOP, THAT WE'VE RE-INVESTED, WE ALWAYS LOOK TO PICK-UP PIECES THAT WILL MORE THAN COVER OUR EXPENSES. IT'S NOT REALLY A TRADE SECRET AS SUCH, BECAUSE ALL DEALERS HAVE THEIR WAYS OF OFFSETTING COSTS, BY BUYING LOW AND SELLING A LITTLE HIGHER. BOOKS ARE MOST OFTEN, MY CHOICE TO MAKE BACK WHAT WE'VE SPENT FOR GAS, LUNCH AND OTHER EXPENSES, LIKE THE COFFEE AND DONUT BEFORE GETTING BACK TO THE SHOP. THIS MORNING, ANDREW AND I WERE OUT ON THE HUNT AND GATHER, AND I WAS ABLE TO FIND ENOUGH OLD BOOKS, TO COVER THE OUTING. I WAS ABLE TO GET A CLEAN, WELL LOOKED AFTER COOKBOOK, IN HARDCOVER, WRITTEN BY ONE OF CANADA'S BEST KNOWN COOKBOOK AUTHORS, EDNA STABLER; I FOUND A 1968 FIRST EDITION, WITH DUSTJACKET OF "FOOD THAT REALLY SCHMECKS - MENNONITE COUNTRY COOKING." THERE WERE MANY OTHER TITLES ATTRIBUTED TO THIS WELL TRAINED FOOD EXPERT, INCLUDING HER FIRST MAJOR SELLER, "SAUERKROUT AND ENTERPRIZE." YOU CAN'T HAVE A CANADIAN HERITAGE COOKBOOK COLLECTION, WITHOUT AMPLE TITLES WRITTEN BY EDNA STAEBLER. A SECOND BOOK FOR A TWO DOLLAR INVESTMENT, WAS A 1960'S BIOGRAPHY BY MONICA STERLING, ENTITLED "THE WILD SWAN - THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN," IN EXCELLENT CONDITION. I LIKE TO HAVE A GOOD SELECTION OF WRITER, MUSICIAN AND ART BIOGRAPHIES, AND THIS ONE FITS BEAUTIFULLY. MY OLD DANISH FRIEND, ASGAR THRANE, AND I, USED TO DISCUSS MR. ANDERSEN WORK FREQUENTLY, WHEN HE WOULD VISIT OUR FORMER BRACEBRIDGE ANTIQUE SHOP, WHERE WE SOLD A NUMBER OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSON BOOKS, ESPECIALLY HIS FAIRY STORIES; OF WHICH GAINED HIM MOST FAME. THIS IS A GREAT AND INSPIRATIONAL STORY FOR THE BIBLIOPHILE. ALSO PICKED UP A "FIX YOUR PLYMOUTH" OWNERS HANDBOOK, WRITTEN BY BILL TOBOLDT, FOR ALL MODELS FROM 1952 TO 1968. WE SELL BOOKS LIKE THIS IN OUR NOSTALGIA ROOM, AND THIS WILL LIKELY BE GONE BEFORE THE OTHER BOOKS, MENTIONED ABOVE. I ALSO PICKED UP AN AUTOGRAPHED BOOK ABOUT EDUCATIONAL REVITALIZATION, AND CLASSROOM ENHANCEMENTS, WRITTEN BY SANDRA DEAN, ENTITLED "HEARTS AND MINDS - A PUBLIC SCHOOL MIRACLE." WHEN YOU'RE SELLING BOOKS, YOU HAVE TO COVER A THOUSAND OR MORE DIFFERENT AREAS OF INTEREST. SO WE HAVE TO DIVERSIFY THE COLLECTION AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, WHILE STILL HOLDING TO A STRICT BUDGET. THERE WERE DAYS LIKE THIS, WHEN I COULD COME BACK WITH A HUNDRED BOOKS AND A HARVEST TABLE. TODAY I ARRIVED BACK AT THE SHOP WITH FOUR BOOKS, AND A VINTAGE, HANDMADE, PLAYROOM (WOODEN) TOY, WHERE THE YOUNGSTER PLACES SHAPED OBJECTS THROUGH THE RIGHT-PROPORTIONED HOLES IN THE BOX. I TOLD SUZANNE I HAD PURCHASED AN APTITUDE TEST FOR HER TO TRY. THAT DIDN'T GO OVER WELL.
    WHEN OUR BOYS WERE BEGINNING TO TAKE AN INTEREST IN COLLECTING, FOR WHATEVER REASON, (WHICH WE CAN'T RECALL NOW), WE DECIDED TO START THEM WITH INDIVIDUAL STAMP BOOKS. A LOCAL BOOK STORE, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, WAS SELLING BAGS OF CANCELLED POSTAGE STAMPS, AND THEY WERE AN AFFORDABLE INTRODUCTION TO THAT PARTICULAR FIELD. AS WE COULDN'T BUY ONE A BAG OF STAMPS WITHOUT THE OTHER ONE CRYING FOUL, WE HAD TO DOUBLE UP ON EVERYTHING, WHICH UNDER THE RIGHT CIRCUMSTANCES, COULD GET EXPENSIVE. WE BOUGHT THEM SOME BOOKS WITH PLASTIC SHIELDS, TO ORGANIZE THEIR SMALL COLLECTIONS. THIS INTEREST IN STAMPS LASTED A MONTH. SUZANNE AND I DID MORE WORK SETTING UP THE BOOKS THAN THEY DID, AND FOR YEARS NOW, WE'VE MOVED THEM FROM SHELF TO SHELF AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES. EACH TIME, I TAKE A GANDER, AND WONDER IF I COULD EVER GET INTO STAMPS MYSELF. I WONDERED THIS ALOUD, TO SUZANNE LAST NIGHT, AND AS SHE OFTEN DOES WHILE KNITTING, ANSWERED "I GUESS SO." THE ONLY TIME THAT RESPONSE WOULD EVER CHANGE IN OUR HOUSE, UNDER SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCES, IS IF I ASKED IF SHE WOULD ALLOW ME TO HAVE AN AFFAIR, OR BUY A MOTORCYCLE. SHE'D PROBABLY BE LESS ANGRY ABOUT THE AFFAIR THING, THAN ME GETTING A MOTORCYCLE. "YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO RIGHT TO SUNNYBROOK RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU," SHE WARNS, AT LEAST ONCE EVERY YEAR, WHEN I PAUSE, WHILE WALKING ON THE MAIN STREET, TO TAKE A PEEK AT PARKED MOTORCYCLE. "WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT? YOU AND I ON A CHOPPER, HEADING OUT ON YARD SALE SATURDAYS?" SHE DOESN'T ANSWER. SO IF SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD KEEP ME OFF A MOTORCYCLE BY ENCOURAGING ME TO COLLECT STAMPS AND "COVERS" (ENVELOPES WITH POSTMARKS AND CANCELLED STAMPS), I THINK SHE'D BE VERY SUPPORTIVE.
     SO HERE'S THE REST OF THE STORY. ABOUT TEN YEARS AGO, I FOUND A DAMAGED STAMP BOOK, THAT HAD BEEN KEPT BY A GERMAN YOUNGSTER, IN THE 1950'S. THE NOVELTY STAMPS SORT OF EXPLAIN THIS, AND I EXPECT THAT A MOTHER OR FATHER PASSED IT DOWN TO A CHILD, A NEICE OR NEPHEW, WHO ALSO APPLIED VARIOUS OTHER ADORNMENTS, AND PRINTED THEIR NAME ON THE INSIDE COVER. THE GRAPHICS ABOVE SHOW THE BOOK, AND SOME COLORFUL STAMPS THAT HAD BEEN COLLECTED, AND PLACED ON THE RESPECTIVE COUNTRY'S PAGE. THERE ARE PROBABLY SEVERAL HUNDRED STAMPS, ALL HAVING BEEN CANCELLED, REPRESENTING COUNTRIES AROUND THE GLOBE. I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT THE BOYS MIGHT LIKE THE ADDITION OF THESE OLD STAMPS, WHICH WERE MUCH EARLIER THAN THE ONES THEY HAD PURCHASED, IN THE PLASTIC BAGS, AT THE BOOK SHOP. THEY EACH TOOK A LOOK, AND SAID, "THEY'RE NICE DAD, SEE YOU LATER." SO, LIKE A LOT OF OTHER COLLECTABLES IN OUR RESIDENCE, I JUST PUT THE BOOK IN MY ARCHIVES AND FORGOT ABOUT IT FOR MOST OF THE PAST TEN YEARS. LAST NIGHT, BECAUSE I HAD TO GET INTO AN OLD CEDAR TRUNK ON OUR HEARTH, I FOUND THE DETERIORATING STAMP BOOKS AND THIS BEAT-UP ALBUM. THIS TIME, I DECIDED TO STUDY THE COLLECTION, TO SEE IF ANYTHING IN THE BRITTLE PAGES WOULD RAISE SOME INTEREST. ONE THING DID.
     THE STAMP ALBUM WAS PRINTED IN LEIPZIG, GERMANY, POST WAR WE BELIEVE. THE BLOW UP OF THE SIGNATURE, ON THE VERY TOP OF AN INSIDE COVER PAGE, READS, "OLE SORENSON, 2 MA BIRKENAU." AFTER LOOKING AT OTHER WRITING IN THE ALBUM, AND DOING SOME PRELIMINARY RESEARCH, WE THINK THE REFERENCE MEANS, THAT A FORMER OWNER OF THIS BOOK, SPENT TIME, POSSIBLY TWO MONTHS OR TWO YEARS, IN BIRKENAU PRISON CAMP. FOR WHATEVER REASON, THE INDIVIDUAL THOUGHT IT NECESSARY TO NOTE THAT THEY HAD BEEN IN "BIRKENAU." THE CORRECT SPELLING IS ACTUALLY "BIRKENAU," AND WAS OFFICIALLY KNOWN AS "AUSCHWITZ-BIRKENAU," THE GERMAN PRISON CAMP, LOCATED IN OCCUPIED POLAND, DURING THE SECOND WORLD WAR. WE THINK THIS MAY HAVE BEEN A LANGUAGE ISSUE, AND THE SPELLING, AT LEAST TO OLE SORENSEN, WAS CORRECT. THE NOTATION IS VERY FAINT NOW, AND I WANTED TO CAPTURE IT BEFORE THE PAGE DETERIORATES ANY FURTHER. IT WAS KIND OF A STARTLING FIND, AND ONE I HAD NEVER NOTICED PREVIOUSLY. THIS ISN'T TO SAY, THAT IT TOOK A NOTATION LIKE THIS, TO GET ME INTERESTED IN COLLECTING STAMPS IN MY ELDER YEARS. IT DIDN'T HURT. IF OUR INTERPRETATION OF THE SIGNATURE AND REFERENCE TO BIRKENAU IS CORRECT, THEN THE STAMPS COLLECTED WITHIN, AND THE DECORATIVE NOVELTY STAMPS ON THE PAGE, MEAN SOMETHING MORE THAN "WHAT YOU SEE, IS WHAT YOU GET." AND THEN I FOUND A WONDERFUL QUEEN VICTORIA STAMP, FROM 1898 PLACED IN THE BOOK, AND ALTHOUGH IT'S NOT OF GREAT VALUE, I'VE ALWAYS BEEN A BIG FAN OF THE OLD QUEEN. I DON'T NO WHETHER I HAVE THE "RIGHT STUFF," TO BE A STAMP COLLECTOR, BUT I AM SLOWING DOWN A TAD. ONE THING ABOUT IT, STAMPS ARE A LOT EASIER TO STORE, THAN IF I COLLECTED VICTROLAS OR FLAT-TO-THE-WALL CUPBOARDS, AND CONSIDERING SUZANNE WON'T LET ME COLLECT MOTORCYCLES, BECAUSE I MIGHT RIDE ONE, STAMPS ARE LOOKING LIKE AN IDEAL RETIREMENT INVESTMENT. SHE ALSO DOESN'T LIKE ME WATCHING TOO MUCH TELEVISION. MY MOTHER USED TO TELL ME THAT ALL THE TIME. GSEEZ, HISTORY DOES REPEAT.

ADVENTURES GOT ME IN A LOT OF TROUBLE - BUT IT WAS WORTH IT

I WATCHED THE HISTORY OF A SMALL TOWN COME AND GO!

ALL MY TEACHERS, ALL THE NEIGHBORS ON ALICE STREET, MY HOCKEY AND BASEBALL BUDDIES, AND MEMBERS OF THE HUNT'S HILL GANG, WOULD HAVE, AND MAY HAVE LAUGHED IN MY MOTHER'S FACE, IF SHE HAD SAID, IN MY DEFENSE REGARDING SOME MISDEMEANOR, "OH, TEDDY IS SUCH A SHY, GENTLE CHILD." THEY KNEW BETTER. I MIGHT HAVE GIVEN THAT IMPRESSION AT HOME, BUT ONCE POUNDING THE BEAT, I WAS ANYTHING BUT SHY OR GENTLE ABOUT ANYTHING. I JUST WAS A LITTLE FASTER, SLIGHTLY LESS VISIBLE, AND MORE STRATEGIC WHEN IT CAME TO MESSING-ABOUT. WHEN I WANTED SOMETHING, I WAS PARTICULARLY PERSUASIVE, AND I'D KEEP NATTERING ABOUT IT, AND LOOKING FOR LOOPHOLES, TO REACH A PARTICULAR OBJECTIVE. IF I SWIPED A PIE COOLING ON A WINDOW LEDGE, I COULD HAVE IT CONSUMED AND ENJOYED BEFORE MY PARTNERS HAD LEFT THE CRIME SCENE. THEY ALWAYS GOT CAUGHT. MY MOTHER MIGHT HAVE QUESTIONED THE BLUEBERRY STAIN ON MY SHIRT, BUT I COULD FOB THAT OFF BY SUGGESTING IT WAS A ROGUE BLACKBALL THAT FELL OUT OF MY MOUTH…..HITTING MY SHIRT, AND ROLLING ALL THE WAY DOWN TO MY WHITE RUNNING SHOES…..WHERE A BLUEBERRY CHUNK HAD ALSO HIT. I USED TO GRAB RIPE TOMATOES OFF THE VINE BUT NOT TO EAT. LET'S JUST SAY SOMEONE I DIDN'T LIKE, GOT A BIG WET SURPRISE IN THE MIDDLE OF THEIR BACK. I WAS A BAD BUGGER AND A MILLION MILES FROM BEING SHY ABOUT ANYTHING.

I COULD BE TOLD A THOUSAND TIMES, NOT TO THROW LITTLE GREEN APPLES AT THE HOUSES IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD. I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS ABOUT THOSE APPLES. YOU COULDN'T EAT ALL YOU PICKED, BECAUSE THE STOMACH ACHE WOULD DOUBLE-YOU-UP IN PAIN. THEN THERE WERE THE MAD DASHES FOR THE WASHROOMS, WITH CLENCHED BUTT CHEEKS. SOMETIMES YOU JUST DISEMBARKED THE BIKES IN FLIGHT, THE PAIN AND URGENCY CAME ON SO FAST.

SO INSTEAD OF WASTING THE REMAINDER, OF THE LITTLE GREEN APPLES (WORMS WERE A BONUS) WELL SIR, THOSE TIN ROOVES ON SOME OF THE OLDER NEIGHBORHOOD HOUSES, RATTLED BEAUTIFULLY WITH A BARRAGE OF APPLES FROM THREE OR FOUR ASSAILANTS. THE FOLKS WOULD COME RUNNING OUT OF THEIR HOUSES THINKING IT WAS A METEOR SHOWER HITTING EARTH. GREEN APPLES MADE US CRAZY. I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY TIMES WE GOT CAUGHT UP SOMEONE'S TREES, SCOFFING THE FRUIT OFF THE VINE. ONE OLD GIRL HAD A LONG POLE SHE USED TO KNOCK THE APPLES DOWN, TO MAKE JELLY, AND THAT WORKED ON KIDS AS WELL. I CAME AROUND THE CORNER, ON RICHARD STREET ONE MORNING, AND SAW HER STANDING THERE WHACKING THE TREE, OVER AND OVER AGAIN, WITH THE LONG STICK. THESE APPLES HOWEVER, WERE YELLING "HELP." SHE HAD FOUND ONE OF MY CHUMS UP THE TREE AND WAS BEATING HIS BEHIND AS HE DARTED FROM BRANCH TO BRANCH. I WAS ABLE TO DISTRACT HER LONG ENOUGH SO HE COULD JUMP DOWN, AND MAKE A RUN FOR IT. CRIPES SHE CHASED HIM FOR ABOUT A BLOCK. I HAD MY BIKE SO I SPED OFF. SHE WAS PRETTY TICKED OFF. WE ONLY VISITED HER TREE AFTER THAT, DURING AFTER SUNSET, AS HER VISION WASN'T ALL THAT GOOD. SHE'D JUST THINK IT WAS RACOONS OR SOMETHING, AND CURSE OUT THE WINDOW WHEN SHE HEARD THE LEAVES RUSTLING. WE JUST MADE RACOON SOUNDS TO KEEP HER HAPPY.

THE POINT IS, AT THIS TIME OF MY LIFE, THAT I DO LOVE TO RECALL, I WAS NEVER SHY ABOUT OPPORTUNITY. I WANTED TO EXPERIENCE THINGS, GO PLACES, UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS GOING ON AROUND ME. I WANTED TO LEARN BY IMMERSION, AND YOU KNOW, IT MOST CERTAINLY WAS WHAT LED TO MY FASCINATION TODAY, WITH THE EVER-DYNAMIC REALM OF "THE NOSTALGIC." IT WAS MY WORLD. I PLAYED WITH THIS STUFF, LIVED AMONGST IT, PAID ATTENTION TO ITS INTEGRITY THEN, AND KNEW THAT ONE DAY, IT WAS GOING TO BE RETIRED AND REMOVED FROM MY DAY TO DAY ADVENTURES. LIKE THE VINTAGE GAS PUMPS AT ALL THE LOCAL SERVICE CENTRES IN THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE. THEY WERE NOSTALGIA IN THE 1960'S, BECAUSE THEY WERE PROBABLY TWENTY OR MORE YEARS OLD AT THE TIME. AS MY PARENTS TRAVELLED ALOT, I STUDIED THE PUMPS AT GAS STATIONS ALL THE WAY TO AND FROM FLORIDA, NUMEROUS TIMES, AND I KNEW WHAT WAS BEING USED AT HOME WAS LONG PAST PRIME FOR THE MODERN-ERA GAS STATIONS. WELL, THEY WEREN'T MODERN BUILDINGS AND THE PUMPS SUITED THE BUILDINGS PERFECTLY.

My two best buddies, Al "Weasel" Hillman, and his brother Rick, used to take me into the murky, gas and oil scented inner sanctum of Bracebridge's Downtown Garage, across from Muskoka Trading. The garage was run by their father, Seth, and his partner Art Crockford, two of the most interesting chaps a young lad could chat with on a slow Saturday afternoon. We'd drop in and see them if we had a particular need for a go-cart axle or wheels, and honestly, we'd try to stay in there as long as possible….because it was a fabulous treat for the senses; even though it was in the late 1960's, the automotive repair shop was right out of the 1930's 40's. The long counter was covered with "geasy-fingered" service manuals, and the old oak cupboards behind, were loaded with thousands of tins and boxes, and off the top hooks, were fan belts and wiring and rubber seals and many odd chains. I loved standing on the edge of the grease pit, looking down into the place where the mechanics performed their delicate surgeries. The place was always dark, except for these trouble lights, three or four illuminated, hanging near the service area, with only several overhead lights switched on……which meant you had to spend some time in the dark to allow your eyes to adjust. We watched all kinds of repairs being made, but if it got busy Seth ushered us back out into the open air. You know, if someone told you that they found the scent of oil, grease and gas kind of alluring……almost a cologne they'd be attracted to, I'd know exactly what they were talking about. I'm the most non-mechanical person to ever write about loving the interior ambience, and permeating aroma of an old-time garage. It dates back to those brief forays into the Downtown Garage to see what Seth and Art were up to. We'd sometimes just stand at the counter and listen to them spin yards with other garage hangers-on, who had no particular place to be….or go, and the conversation was always hale and hardy, and the politics conservative. I found the garage fascinating, just as I felt about the people who worked there.

I can remember being out for a drive with my parents one night, and coming around the corner of Manitoba Street, onto what was then known as Thomas Street (corner of the Patterson Hotel), and seeing the local garage gang, sitting beside the gas pumps, with their chairs balanced on two legs, and their backs up against the wall. Now an oddity of this gas station, is that it was on an angle that put one corner of it precariously close to the road that wound down the hillside. The pump sat as close to the tarmac as you could get without actually being on the travelled portion of the roadway. When a car pulled off the road to get gas, it was still pretty much on the road. So the old-timers, as they had been doing for decades, would sit out front, in their tipped back chairs, waiting for end-of-the-day customers to pull off "part of the road" for a few gallons of gas. My dad said, "I bet they hate it when someone comes to get gas…..and disturbs them." He also added, "Another tough day for these guys," meaning that he assumed they did this pretty much the whole day…..which just wasn't true. I said that, and my mother was aghast. "I've told you to stay away from that place," she said. "You could get hurt in there…..God knows what they might have laying around you could cut yourself on." Geez, I could cut myself in our own apartment, and I did so many times. The Downtown Garage was an entirely safe place for a kid to watch and learn, and both Seth and Art were both sensible in a professional capacity, and fatherly to us stray kids, looking in wonder at what automobile mechanics was all about. They both had a lot of experience to share, and you know, I never remember them raising their voices once, to smarten us up, about something we were touching or a place in the shop we weren't supposed to be visiting. Sure there were sage warnings but they didn't chase us out of the shop with any exotic fear mongering, about the danger of putting our eyes out, or getting cut on the jagged metal that was piled about. They never once told us not to get grease on our clothes. I respected that, and as I knew how angry Merle would have been, if I'd come home wearing a black smear on my pants, I just watched where I walked and stood, so I wouldn't have to explain a single thing about my whereabouts…..to my own Sherlock Holmes. Tell you what. I never, ever left the Downtown Garage, that I hadn't learned something or other about automobiles, and what can break down, and can be repaired…..and what repair has to be improvised. Bet you don't hear about that too much in this day of computer technology dictating everything about repairs except when to go to the bathroom, or have lunch. These old-timers made lots of parts, to help in a crunch, get these customers mobile again. They were alchemists of their industry. This was the kind of classroom I wanted to be in…..not because I planned to be a mechanic in later years…..but because it fascinated me, and compelled me to learn things I otherwise would never have been exposed. My mother wouldn't allow me to take a shop class at school for fear I'd cut my hand off. So I became a writer /historian, and I still cut myself on can lids and pieces of paper. But at least I got a chance to see what it was like in the automobile repair business of the 1960's and 70's, thanks to Rick and Al, and of course Seth and Art, to find gents of gas station legend and lore.

When I'm traveling about the antique circuit, and pop into shops that have automobile and service station memorabilia, I always pause for a few moments, and think back to the days Al, Rick, Don (another chum) and I, had the privilege of hanging-out amidst motor vehicle history. It might not have been called a museum, but it was in fact, a place that should have been frozen in time……or at least when Art and Seth sold it off, preserved for posterity. It's a Hock Shop today, and I can't pass through that door, without re-visiting those tantalizing visuals and scents of automotive heritage. I still come around that same corner, as I did with my father, and wonder, if those three old timers that I used to see, sitting beside the gas pump(s), are still there……in spirit-form, leaning back in their chair against the building, watching the mortal world of this new century, pass by. I know they're still there, so I wave each time I go by…..no fooling.

I'm glad I wasn't so shy as a youngster, as my mother supposed, that I missed these opportunities to visit the industries and shops that operated in our town, back in the mid 1960's onward, because it was all about to change so dramatically even before I hit twenty……and I think I witnessed, up close and personal, those wind-up years where progress and urban renewal became the nostalgia lovers' nightmare. I was afforded a rare adventure in these places, including many visits to the Uptown Garage operated by Ted Smith, on the top of Manitoba Street's, "Queen's Hill," to visit my school mate Ross "Hoss" Smith (Ted's son), who was the service centre gas jockey. He'd pump your gas, sell you a chocolate bar, clean your windows, take your payment, and say "thank you very much," when you complimented the landscape painting, he was working on in the lobby. We also had a painting pharmacist, and a barber artist in our town at the same time. But you won't find that in any history book…..unless I write it…..and I haven't yet.

I do regret one thing about our dealings with Seth Hillman. If we came into the garage looking for old wheels and axles, it was undoubtedly for our go-cart we were constructing. If we didn't find what we needed to scavenge, at the Downtown Garage, dollars to donuts we knew where else to look. I can't tell you how many times Seth came home at night, and when planning to cut the lawn on their Toronto Street property, found his mower to be missing its wheels. He'd just come out of that garage shaking his head, mumbling about "damned kids," and never say another word. We probably got four of his old mowers the same way, and this isn't to suggest Rick and Al didn't get scolded about the wheel-removals, but he never said a cross word as long as I knew the man. God knows he put up with a lot of kid interventions. I don't think he was too happy when we got a hold of some of this cherished dandelion wine, in the basement, and had a wee party of our own. Teddy Currie shy? I don't think so. If it wasn't bolted to the floor, it was finders keepers. Hey, it worked the same in our house, as long as Merle and Ed weren't in at the time. We didn't have a lawnmower to scavenge from anyway. We just raided the fridge for those happenstance sandwiches to give us strength to carry on our neighborhood mischief