Forts and Museums For My Own Good, or So They Thought

AS A KID, I WAS HAULED TO FORTS AND MUSEUMS FOR MY OWN GOOD

MY MINIMALIST PARENTS HAD SOME PLAN FOR THE FUTURE……JUST NOT SURE WHAT IT WAS

     I'VE JUST NOW BEEN LOOKING AT SEVERAL FAMILY PHOTOGRAPH ALBUMS, I INHERITED, WHEN BOTH MY PARENTS PASSED AWAY, A FEW YEARS BACK. IT'S TRUE WHAT I WROTE ABOUT THEM, IN YESTERDAY'S BLOG. THEY WERE FULL FLEDGED MINIMALISTS. THEY WEREN'T NUDISTS OR NATURISTS, BUT THEY DIDN'T HAVE MUCH USE FOR MATERIAL POSSESSIONS. IN THE PHOTOS OF LIVING ROOMS OF THE PAST, IN A VARIETY OF APARTMENTS THEY RESIDED, THERE ARE ONLY A FEW STICKS OF FURNITURE, A COUPLE OF PAINTINGS (I HAVE BOTH HUNG ABOVE MY CHAIR IN OUR LIVING ROOM), A ROUND COFFEE TABLE, AND ONE RECTANGULAR ONE MY DAD BUILT. THERE WERE SEVERAL LAMPS AND A VERY TINY RUG IN THE HALLWAY. THEY WERE LIVING WITHOUT MANY LUXURIES THAT'S FOR SURE, BUT I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU, IT HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE MONEY THEY BROUGHT HOME EACH WEEK. MERLE WORKED AT A HAMILTON BANK, AND MY DAD WAS EMPLOYED WITH WELDWOOD LUMBER, A LARGE MULTI-BRANCH OPERATION IN THE EARLY 1960'S. THROUGHOUT THEIR LIVES, IT WAS PRETTY MUCH THE SAME, AND WITH THE EXCEPTION OF MORE COMFORTABLE CHAIRS AND A SOFA, THEY KEPT THEIR LIVING SPACE UNCLUTTERED. SO THIS IS HOW I GREW UP. I THOUGHT IT WAS NORMAL LIVING. IN THOSE DAYS, I DON'T THINK THIS WAS OUT OF THE ORDINARY, AND WHEN I VISITED MY FRIENDS' HOUSES, THEY WERE KEPT PRETTY MUCH THE SAME. VOID OF CLUTTER. LOTS OF ROOM TO SQUARE DANCE. OR DO THE TWIST WITHOUT KNOCKING OVER TABLES AND CHAIRS.

     IT'S ANOTHER PUZZLER, WHEN I LOOK BACK AT HOW I BECAME THE COLLECTOR / ANTIQUE DEALER OF TODAY. I KNOW IT STARTED EARLY IN CHILDHOOD, AS I'VE EXPLAINED, FROM HONEST RECOLLECTION, BUT THERE REALLY ISN'T ANY FAMILY CONNECTION TO MY, WELL, GOD-GIVEN INTEREST IN POSSESSING STUFF. NOT JUST STUFF FOR THE HECK OF IT. ITEMS I LIKE AND ONES I CAN EVENTUALLY SELL, FOR AT THE VERY LEAST, WHAT I PAID FOR THEM; OR WITH THE INTENT OF MAKING A PROFIT. IF I DIDN'T GET THIS FROM EXPOSURE TO MY PARENTS, AND THEIR BUYING AND COLLECTING HABITS…..WHICH THERE WERE NONE TO SPEAK OF, THEN WHY WAS I SO POSSESSED WITH ACQUISITION. THE RULES OF "FINDERS KEEPERS," WHICH GREATLY INFLUENCED MY LIFE IN THOSE DAYS; AND KEPT ME HUNTING SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. HAPPILY OF COURSE.

     THERE IS ONE UNUSUAL ASPECT OF MY UPBRINGING, THAT LIKE MY PARENTS SPARTAN EXISTENCE, I HAVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD. FROM ABOUT AGE FIVE, MY PARENTS TOOK ME TO HUNDREDS OF SIGNIFICANT HERITAGE AND NATURALLY SIGNIFICANT SITES IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO. I WAS AT RIVERDALE ZOO A LOT. BEFORE I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD, I'D VISITED EVERY HISTORIC FORT IN THE PROVINCE, INCLUDING FORT YORK, AND FORT HENRY, PLUS ALL THE OTHER WAR OF 1812 HERITAGE SITES, INCLUDING FAMOUS BATTLEGROUNDS. I WAS AT THE ROYAL ONTARIO MUSEUM MANY TIMES, EVEN BEFORE I WAS TEN YEARS OF AGE, AND PLACES LIKE STE. MARIE AMONG THE HURONS, IN MIDLAND, UPPER CANADA VILLAGE, AND EVEN, WHEN TRAVELING THROUGH THE UNITED STATES, THEY DEMANDED I EXPERIENCE AMERICAN HISTORY AS WELL. BELIEVE ME, I HAD MANY OF MY HISTORY LESSONS, LONG BEFORE I GRADUATED THE EIGHTH GRADE. I JUST CAN'T TELL YOU WHY IT WAS SO IMPORTANT TO MY PARENTS, WHO DIDN'T LIKE OLD THINGS THAT MUCH…..AND IF IT WAS COMING INTO OUR APARTMENT, AS FURNITURE OR A FIXTURE, IT HAD TO BE FASHIONABLE TO THE TIMES. HERE'S A CASE IN POINT.

     MERLE, FOR WHATEVER REASON, GOT INVITED TO TRAVEL WITH A FRIEND, IN OUR APARTMENT BUILDING, TO VISIT A HOUSEHOLD MOVING SALE, IN ANOTHER PART OF TOWN, WHEN WE LIVED IN BRACEBRIDGE. WHEN I CAME HOME FROM SCHOOL THAT AFTERNOON, THERE WAS A NICE, 1930'S CHINA CUPBOARD, OCCUPYING THE CORNER OF OUR APARTMENT KITCHEN. IN THE VICINITY OF THE CUPBOARD, WERE TWO ATTRACTIVE PRESS BACK CHAIRS I LOVED FROM THE MOMENT I SAW THEM. IT BLEW ME AWAY. WAS THIS A MID-LIFE CRISIS OR SOMETHING? I WAS PLEASED WITH THEIR CHANGE OF HEART, AND IT WAS A PLEASURE EATING IN THE KITCHEN, LOOKING AT THE WAY MERLE'S FEW CHINA PIECES SPARKLED BEHIND GLASS. IT WAS SOON FILLED WITH THE KNICK-KNACKS SHE HAD BEEN STORING ON THE UPPER SHELVES OF THE KITCHEN CUPBOARDS. ALL OF A SUDDEN, SHE THOUGHT THEY'D LOOK NICE IN THE CABINET. MERLE HADN'T GONE TO THE SALE, WITH ANY IDEA OF BUYING THESE PIECES. SHE HAD A FEW BUCKS, AND THE STUFF WAS GOING CHEAP, SO I GUESS SHE JUST GOT CAUGHT UP IN THE MOMENT. AH, NOW THAT'S SOMETHING TO WHICH I CAN RELATE. IT HAPPENS TO ME EVERY DAY.

     THE ARTICLES REMAINED IN OUR KITCHEN FOR ABOUT TWO YEARS, WHEN ONE DAY, MERLE STARTED TO COMPLAIN ABOUT THE PRESS BACK CHAIRS BEING TOO DARK FOR THE ROOM, AND SHE WAS JUST GOING TO LEAVE THEM OUT BY THE APARTMENT'S REFUSE BINS, IN CASE SOMEONE ELSE WANTED THEM. I WAS OUTRAGED, AND DEMANDED SHE ABORT SUCH A PLAN, AND LET ME USE THEM IN MY ROOM. SHE WAS RELUCTANT, BUT I TOLD HER THEY WOULD BE PERFECT, FOR WHEN, DURING HOCKEY NIGHT IN CANADA SATURDAYS, I'D HAVE CHUMS IN, TO PLAY THE TABLE-TOP GAME, DURING THE INTERMISSIONS. ACTUALLY, THEY WERE PERFECT IN EVERY WAY, AND WE MUST HAVE HAD FIFTY STANLEY CUP FINALS, WITH OUR BEHINDS SLIDING ABOUT IN THOSE GREAT LITTLE CHAIRS.

     BUT LIKE WITH EVERYTHING ELSE STRANGE ABOUT MY PARENTS, I CAME HOME FROM UNIVERSITY, TO FIND THAT MERLE HAD GONE INTO MY ROOM, AND REMOVED THE CHAIRS, FOLLOWING HER FIRST PLAN, OF PLACING THEM IN THE BACK YARD, SO SOMEONE COULD SCOOP THEM UP FOR FREE. WHEN I ASKED HER WHY, ALL SHE SAID, "WE'RE MOVING. I WANT ALL NEW FURNITURE FOR THE NEXT PLACE." I CAME BACK ANOTHER WEEKEND, CIRCA 1974, AND FOUND THAT THERE WAS A BIG HOLE WHERE THE CHINA CABINET USED TO SIT IN THE KITCHEN. BEFORE I COULD EVEN ASK, MERLE BLURTED, "I GAVE IT TO MY GIRLFRIEND FOR HER HOUSE." I MUST CONFESS, TO HAVING FELT VERY CONFUSED ABOUT THEIR STRANGE ATTITUDE, AND THE FURNITURE GIVE-AWAYS. I REALLY WANTED THAT CHINA CUPBOARD, EVEN MORE THAN THE CHAIRS, AND MERLE KNEW THIS BEFORE SHE BESTOWED KINDNESS ON A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY.

     IT GETS BETTER. I CAME HOME ONE OTHER TIME, IN MY FIRST YEAR OF UNIVERSITY, AND FOUND THAT SHE HAD GIVEN AWAY ALL MY TOYS, INCLUDING THE HOCKEY GAME I ABSOLUTELY ADORED. IT WAS A WELL USED, AND APPRECIATED PIECE I HAD INTENDED TO TAKE TO MY EVENTUAL UNIVERSITY DORM ROOM. IT EVEN HAD THE FIRST EXPANSION TEAMS, THAT I BOUGHT DIRECTLY FROM THE MUNRO COMPANY IN BURLINGTON.  I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS BEFORE, I SUPPOSE, TO FIND ANSWERS BY BEATING-UP THE SAME OLD STORY, FROM DIFFERENT ANGLES AND POINTS OF VIEW. MERLE HAD GIVEN EVERY TOY I OWNED, TO SOME NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS, WHO ADMITTEDLY WERE FROM A POOR HOUSEHOLD, AND BEING RAISED BY THEIR GRANDMOTHER. I WOULD HAVE GLADLY GIVEN THEM MONEY INSTEAD, BECAUSE I REALLY WANTED TO KEEP MY OLD TOYS, ESPECIALLY THE HOCKEY GAME, THAT RAY GREEN, OF BURLINGTON AND I, HAD PLAYED AND PLAYED AND PLAYED. WHEN WE MOVED TO BRACEBRIDGE, THAT GAME WAS MY WAY OF MAKING FRIENDS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD. I WAS THE ONLY LAD ON HUNT'S HILL WHO HAD A TABLE TOP HOCKEY GAME, WITH ALL THE METAL-PLAYER EXPANSION TEAMS, IN A SPECIAL COLLECTOR'S BOX. MY BUDDIES JOINED ME WEEKLY FOR REGULAR SEASON PLAY. WE'D PLAY ROAD HOCKEY FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS, OUT ON UPPER ALICE STREET, THEN WE'D HEAD INDOORS, AND UP TO MY ROOM, WHERE WE'D PLAY UNTIL DINNER….OR IT WAS TIME FOR BED. THE LOCAL TABLE-TOP HOCKEYISTS, INCLUDED RANDY CARSWELL, RICK HILLMAN, JIM NIVEN, DON CLEMENT AND DOZENS OF OTHER KIDS FROM OUR APARTMENT.

SO WHY DOES A PARENT DOWN SIZE THEIR KID'S STUFF, EVEN BEFORE THEY'VE MOVED ON?

     The oddity of all of this, despite my grumbling to the contrary, is that Merle and Ed were good parents. I wasn't beaten or denied food, or locked in a room for days on end. My mother liked to occasionally whack my behind, or tug on my ear real hard, but in retrospect, I can't deny that each whack and tug, was usually the result of a pretty big behavioral issue. My dad never raised a hand to me, because he had been beaten as a child, and didn't want to scar me the same, as he had been growing up. The way they toured me around the country, which could take us all to Ottawa and Lachine, Quebec on little notice, or Toronto on a whim, it sure seemed like they wanted me to get out and see the environs, and appreciate the heritage of our province and country. It may have been the complete opposite to what you might expect, from what I have just described, but history was a big deal with both my parents. It just didn't mean holding on to old stuff. They were contemporary thinkers, but something told them, they should let me decide how contemporary I wanted to be……by first exposing me to historic forts and museums, like MacKenzie House in Toronto. I visited every historic site in northern Florida, especially in St. Augustine. I was at Cape Canaveral in 1964 I think, and toured the space museum. At least I've got pictures from a facility that had space capsules on display. Yet funny thing is, I never remember a question and answer situation developing, any time after our visits to these heritage locations. It's like they were programed to take me to the museums, but everything I needed to know, could be acquired on-site. We didn't have a discussion about our visits afterwards. Which is the complete opposite with our boys, who visited just as many museums and natural heritage locations, as I did, but always had follow-up discussions. Suzanne was a history teacher then, and I was an historian - antique dealer - writer. Of course we wanted our sons to learn the history of our nation and province…..and region, but it wasn't possible, by motoring back and forth alone, to teach them properly.

     When I sit down nightly, to pen these little biographical sketches, believe me, I'm enlightening myself at the same time. By writing of these intimate circumstances, I'm certainly pulling out a lot of obscure, shadowy memories that have been long forgotten in the rigors and toils of modern day existence……and raising our own family, of course. I know they were good and caring parents, and none of what they did was purposely mean. They were inconsiderate to say the least, but in my mind, for whatever I felt was a shortfall, or slight indiscretion of conduct, to me, they more than made it up for it, in later years, looking after grandsons Andrew and Robert. It was like they were different people altogether. To the end they were minimalists, and found living infinitely more comfortable with less furniture and clutter, versus the way Suzanne and I have lived, in the company of antiques and collectibles…..and all the boys' childhood toys. I have two old rocking chairs today, dedicated to their plush toys, that I happen to like. If they don't inspire the boys to think back…..that's okay. I sit here every night, and when I get pissed off about the nightly news, or crappy television programs, I can grab a couple of old-time cuddly bears, and my anxiety melts away. I could never think of these heirloom pieces as clutter. Now if the Merle, I knew from my youth, had a say in the matter……well sir, they'd all be gone. Even when I write this down, it seems somewhat silly and emotionally reckless, to take such caring liberties with outdated, surplus pieces of a life once, even with so much perceived nostalgia attached. It's just stuff. You can buy it anywhere, right? Nothing to get possessive about? By the way, my boys are still looking to buy back a Munro table top hockey game for me, with those extra teams…….for some future Christmas or birthday. It didn't mean much to Merle, or Ed, but that old hockey game was important to me……and although I forgave them, it still bugs me all these years later. Yup, it's just old, used, beat-up crap from another era. But damn-it, I love it all. I want to bask in its comforting company. I don't care what it looks like, or says about me as a person (Suzanne feels the same). I won't be giving these heirloom pieces away. When the boys come home to visit, it will all still be here, as they left it! Stuck in the past? Of course I am! 

     One Saturday, about twenty or so years ago, Suzanne and I were out on our typical yard sale adventures, when we found a garage sale at the home of a family friend. It was a house owned by a former apartment neighbor, on Alice Street, and there at the top of the driveway, was our old china cupboard. We didn't have a lot of money that week, and we'd spend way too much that day already. I got out of the car, and went to the cabinet, and tried to open the cupboard door. Just like I'd done a thousand times before, it stuck at the bottom, and took several attempts to open. I put my big nose inside, and inhaled that intoxicatingly wonderful scent of old wood and family history. The owner wanted a hundred dollars for the cabinet, and as soon as she saw me, her face went red…….and before I could say hello, she had snuck back into the garage and out of sight. I suppose she was embarrassed that a china cupboard that had been given to her for nothing, was for sale in the first place. Maybe she had a second thought, that it should by rights, be passed on to some other deserving neighbor, in the spirit it was originally acquired. Or giving it back to the family, from which it came, when it was no longer needed. "Me." A sort of first refusal kind of thing. Well, there are no rules like that out there, on the yard sale hustings, so I just got back in the car, and declined money from Suzanne to go and make the purchase. Back then, it would have cut into our food budget for the week, and besides, we were driving a Festiva, and the cupboard was just about the same size. I was satisfied that I had seen it once more in my life, and enjoyed its aged aroma. I can still recollect the smell. Imagine that! How many of you would have felt the same about a piece of furniture? It's not like it had a soul or anything. But you know, I used to sit at breakfast, lunch and dinner, looking at the materials in that black, vintage wood cabinet from another era, and imagine the families it had served over its time as a china cupboard. What amazing stories it might tell……if only. While it was just childhood fantasy……folks, I'm the same way today here at Birch Hollow. And yes, I can very much develop attachments to the neat stuff we reside with daily. It is part of the antique dealer's nightmare, that occasionally we have to sell off items, in order to eat, drink and be merry. Suzanne will tell you, without even the smallest trace of a smirk, that I still like to approve sales, of some special items, when they are sold from the shop here in Gravenhurst. I want them to go to an appreciative, caring home. Odd behavior. We antique dealers are boldly odd at the best of times…..although most overviewing us, for documentaries, like to call us eccentrics, living a unique lifestyle.

     I don't look back on my years at home, and feel any ill will, about what my parents did, or didn't do, while I lived with them. I will be forever grateful, that they took me places, and spent the time and money, to send me through old military forts, and museums from Algonquin Park to the midlands of Florida. Their intentions were good, and their actions impacted on me positively, to the point I became an historian…..and lover of antiques. But as for being happy and adjusted, history appealed to me then, just as it does today. I may not give my special furniture pieces pet names, I am very proud of having had time as associate partners, in so many family times, to be in their company…….whether that is an old Boston Rocker, a pine harvest table from our family cottage, a flat to the wall from an old church manse, a pew from a pioneer church, or a bunch of gnarled, ripped teddy bears grinning at me right now.

     Thanks for dropping by today. Maybe this story has stirred some of your own memories. Maybe you should try to jot them down as well. I may never know, what inspired me into the antique trade. It arrived early in life, and was in abundant flow then, and remains today……the thule influence, to keep traveling, keep searching, and keep a positive attitude, about will and skill…..and the eternal quest for the holy grail.  Please drop by again soon. Boy is the wind ever howling through the evergreens and leaning birches here at the old homestead. An hour ago, we had a big clap of thunder, and then came the gale-force winds. Our dog Bosko, stuck his nose out the door, and ran back to the hearth, where it was much more inviting and warm. Oops, something out back just snapped off in the wind, and seeing as I'm still writing this blog, it didn't come crashing through the roof, and kill my last paragraph. I've got to go and see what just came down, in case one of our trees, just made someone else's car a convertible.