The Moldy And Smelly Place We Have To Work

THE PLACES I'VE BEEN AND LIVED TO TELL ABOUT IT -

THE FIRST RULE IS TO PLUG THE NOSE AND DIVE IN -

     I HAVE BEEN IN HOUSES AND SHOPS, AS AN ANTIQUE DEALER, THAT WERE SO APPALLING, DIRTY AND GARBAGE-STREWN,  I HAD TO COVER MY NOSE AND DISGUISE THE DRY HEAVES THAT WOULD START FOR ME, TWO STEPS INSIDE THE DOOR. SUZANNE WON'T CROSS ANY THRESHOLD THAT PRESENTS EITHER AN INTENSE PERFUME SMELL; OR ON THE OTHER EXTREME, THE PERMEATING AROMA OF EITHER CAT URINE OR THE AROMA OF HOUSEHOLD GARBAGE……WHICH INCLUDES ODORS OF DIRTY DISHES LEFT IN A SINK. SHE GETS ALMOST IMMEDIATE HEADACHES FROM CERTAIN PERFUMES AND SCENTED CANDLES, AND SHE WOULD PROJECTILE VOMIT, IF SHE WAS FORCED TO ENTER SOME OF THE ROOMS I'VE HAD TO VISIT, ON AN ANTIQUE ADVENTURE. I'VE BEEN IN SECOND HAND SHOPS AND FLEA MARKETS, WHERE I ACTUALLY BROKE THROUGH FLOOR BOARDS BECAUSE OF THE PREVALENT ROT. WE KEEP A CLEAN-UP KIT IN THE VAN, TO SANITIZE OURSELVES AFTER THESE MISSIONS OF HORROR HAVE BEEN COMPLETED. WHY DO WE DO IT? WHY DON'T WE JUST SAY '"THANKS BUT NO THANKS?" WELL, IT'S BECAUSE OF THE SIGNIFICANT FINDS WE MAKE AMIDST THE RUBBLE.

     I'VE VISITED HOUSES WHERE LIVESTOCK WAS WELCOMED INSIDE. I'VE HAD MY EARS NIBBLED ON BY A RESIDENT GOAT. I'VE BEEN AT HOUSES WITH PIGS AT THE BACK DOOR, A COW TIED UP TO THE TELEVISION TOWER, AND ANOTHER WITH SEVERAL SHEEP THAT LIKED TO GET INTO THE BACK KITCHEN FOR A SORT ABOUT. I'VE BEEN IN OTHER SITUATIONS, IN GARAGES, WHERE THE OWNER HAD FORGOTTEN TO MENTION THE FAMILY OF RACCOONS, AND WHY IT'S NOT A GOOD IDEA TO STARTLE A YOUNG FAMILY. THEY'VE GOT BIGGER CLAWS THAN I THOUGHT. I'VE BEEN IN SECOND HAND SHOPS WHERE I WATCHED RATS SCURRYING ACROSS THE FLOOR, ALL KINDS OF MICE AND TRAILS OF THEIR DROPPINGS. I SAW A FOX EXITING A BUILDING I WAS ENTERING, AND I THINK I HEARD A BEAR GROWL AT ME, WHEN I WAS POKING THROUGH A HALF FALLEN-IN BARN. I'D NEVER HEARD A BEAR GROWL UP CLOSE, AND I DECIDED THAT IF THIS UNSEEN BEAST THOUGHT IT NECESSARY TO WARN ME AWAY, THEN IT WAS HIGHLY APPROPRIATE TO GET MY ASS THE HELL OUT OF THERE.

     SUZANNE AND I HAVE POKED THROUGH COLLECTIONS THAT WERE WHITE AND BLACK WITH MOLD, AND THIS IS A BAD BAD SITUATION. MANY FOLKS WHO ARE EXPOSED TO MOLDS, IN THEIR PROFESSIONS, HAVE TO DON PROTECTIVE GEAR…..FACE-MASK AND GLOVES. MANY, LIKE ARCHIVISTS, WHO HANDLE CONTAMINATED PAPER, MAY BE AT RISK OF DEVELOPING SERIOUS FUTURE BREATHING PROBLEMS. I'VE BEEN INTO THIS KIND OF CONTAMINATION MOST OF MY LIFE, WITHOUT ANY BENEFIT OF A FACE MASK OR GLOVES, EITHER DURING THE GATHERING OF MATERIALS FROM DAMP BASEMENTS AND SHEDS, OR WHEN I HAUL THEM HOME FOR CLEANING AND SORTING. SUZANNE WOULD GET FURIOUS WITH ME, WHEN I'D COME HOME SMELLING LIKE WET BREAD, FROM HANDLING ALL THE MOLD COVERED ITEMS, ESPECIALLY BOOKS. ANTIQUE DEALERS AND COLLECTORS, AND I SUPPOSE ARCHIVISTS, HAVE BEEN CONTAMINATING THEMSELVES FOR YEARS, BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW IF THIS KIND OF EXPOSURE CAUSED ANYTHING SERIOUS. SUZANNE CAN BREAK INTO A COUGHING JAG EVEN IF SHE HANDLES A SLIGHTLY MUSTY BLANKET, QUILT OR BEDSPREAD. FABRIC RELATED ANTIQUES ARE HER SPECIALTY, BUT SHE HAS TO IMMEDIATELY BAG ALL THESE MATERIALS, QUICKLY, AND ALWAYS WITH HER MOUTH AND NOSE COVERED. ACTUALLY, EVEN HER EYES WILL WATER IF THE CONTAMINATION IS HEAVY ENOUGH. THE ITEMS ARE TAKEN HOME AND WASHED, AND OR DRY-CLEANED BEFORE SHE CAN DO MUCH MORE THAN A CURSORY EXAMINATION OF THE VINTAGE ARTICLES. I WAS CLEANING OUT A COTTAGE BASEMENT, SOME YEARS AGO, AND I DEVELOPED A COUGH THAT LASTED A MONTH. IT WAS WRETCHED, AND I'M CERTAIN IT WAS CAUSED BY THE DUST WE RAISED IN THAT CONFINED SPACE. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID. I KNOW, I KNOW! YOU'D THINK I WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED ALL THE SCOLDINGS I GOT AS A KID, ABOUT PRESERVING LIFE AND LIMB,…..AND THAT A FEW OF MOTHER'S WARNINGS WOULD HAVE LASTED INTO ADULTHOOD. 

     I'VE FOUND A NUMBER OF COTTAGES AND BOATHOUSES, TO BE PARTICULARLY SUSCEPTIBLE TO BATS AND THEIR DROPPINGS, WHICH WHEN CONFINED TO AN ATTIC OR BASEMENT, CREATES AN AWFUL AROMA IF THE TEMPERATURE IS HOT OUTSIDE. I'VE DONE SEVERAL OF THESE CLEAN-OUTS IN JULY, AND THE DROPPINGS COVER EVERYTHING THAT HAS TO BE REMOVED. I PULLED OUT A BEAUTIFUL HARVEST TABLE, FROM BENEATH A MUSKOKA COTTAGE, AND I HAD TO CHISEL THE POOP OFF THE PINE. IT REALLY LOOKED DISTRESSED AFTER I FINISHED WITH IT. IT'S A SMELL YOU CAN'T GET AWAY FROM, AND EVEN NOW, I CAN SENSE ITS PUTRID AROMA. IF YOU WORKING IN THIS KIND OF ENVIRONMENT FOR A HALF HOUR OR EVEN AN HOUR, THAT'S NOT SO BAD. I WOULD OFTEN BE IN THE STUFFY ROOMS FOR MOST OF THE DAY, FOR AN ENTIRE WORK WEEK. WHILE I WOULD HAVE HAD A FACE MASK ON, IT STILL STUNG MY EYES, AND MADE ME COUGH. ALL FOR THE SAKE OF WHAT WAS INSIDE. OLD CANOES, ROWBOATS, BOAT PARTS, BOAT ENGINES, AND ENOUGH MARINE HARDWARE TO OPEN UP A SPECIALTY SHOP.

     I WAS CLEANING OUT A FAMILY BOATHOUSE, THAT BELONGED TO SUZANNE'S FATHER, AND FOUND MYSELF LITERALLY COVERED IN OLD OIL, VARSOL, BAT DROPPINGS THAT WERE DISLODGED FROM THE BEAMS OVERHEAD, AND THEN, SMELLING LIKE THE DEVIL'S ARM PITS, I FELL THROUGH THE INTERIOR DOCK, UP TO MY WASTE IN WATER…..SPLINTERS IN MY BEHIND AS IF I'D SAT ON A PORCUPINE. IT TOOK THREE PEOPLE TO DISLODGE ME FROM MY NEAR WATERY GRAVE, AND THEY HAD TO BREATH-IN DEEPLY, BEFORE YANKING ME FREE…..YES BECAUSE I SMELLED THAT BAD. THIS WAS ROUTINE FOR US, IN OUR YOUNGER DAYS AS DEALERS. WE DON'T DO THIS MUCH ANY MORE, UNLESS THERE IS A REALLY COMPELLING REASON, LIKE THERE'S ANOTHER SWELL HARVEST TABLE IN THERE, FLAT-TO-THE-WALL, OR BASKETS OF OLD NAVIGATION COMPANY INVOICES AND CORRESPONDENCE. WE'D COME OUT OF SOME OF THESE SCAVENGING MISSIONS, WITH CUTS AND BRUISES, LIMPING AND COUGHING, BUT WITH A VAN LOADED TO THE CEILING, WITH EVERYTHING FROM SPINNING WHEELS TO OUTBOARD ENGINES FOR RESALE. WAS IT FUN? PARTS OF IT WERE. WE JUST DIDN'T FULLY APPRECIATE THE CARNAGE WE WERE CREATING FOR OUR IMMUNE SYSTEMS, AND WE TOOK BIG CHANCES ON NINETY PERCENT OF THE PLACES WE VISITED. WE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED BY BUILDINGS TUMBLING DOWN, OR PILES OF DEBRIS FALLING ON TOP OF US, AT ALMOST ANY TIME. SOME OF THE BUILDINGS WE ENTERED WERE STRUCTURALLY UNSOUND. IS THIS NORMAL FOR ANTIQUE DEALERS TO RISK THEIR LIVES? LET'S JUST SAY, I COULD WRITE AN AMAZING BOOK OF STORIES, DETAILING ALL THE CRAZY SITUATIONS WE FIND OURSELVES, HUNTING AND GATHERING ANTIQUES……IN PLACES YOU WOULD NOT WISH TO ENTER! CAT URINE IS A MILD SMELL IN COMPARISON TO SOME OF THE PREVAILING WINDS OF ILL WILL!

ODD FOLKS DOING ODD THINGS AND HOW WE NAVIGATE DIFFICULT SITUATIONS

     As I noted in my last blog, there are circumstances, as veteran antique dealers, we've learned to sidestep based on precedents of the past. We are approached at least twice a week, with an offer to sell family heirlooms, if we are willing to come and see what's in the house, attic, basement, barn or outbuilding. As we have a number of pickers working for us, and we have lots of back-up inventory, we don't need to do as much of this home-visit business, as we did back in the early 1990's, when we had only a third of the inventory we actually needed to operate a profitable business. But there are times, when I feel the person inviting us to their home, is being sincere about what they claim to possess, and that they do wish to sell off what they have indicated. In the past, we would come back from these tours of duty, at least half the time, without anything more than anger and frustration, at being hoodwinked into giving free appraisals. This is a huge problem for us, and folks will lie to us across the counter…..and we only find this out, after we've travelled forty miles of dirt roads, and wasted most of an afternoon examining things that are suddenly no longer for sale. I can't really explain why this happens…..or why it happens to us more than to other dealers. What happens is that they have contacted other dealers, in order to get quotes for the whole package of antiques etc. They won't tell us that we're in a bidding war, until we've invested the time to visit, and given some basic prices for the items we're interested in. Then comes the line we dread…."Look, we're just getting some prices right now, and we have another dealer coming in later this afternoon…..so we'll have to get back to you." In this case, we write it off to stupidity on our part, and thank the homeowner for their hospitality. If they call us back, and they generally do, the question is usually as follows: "We've been offered a thousand dollars for the works. Can you do better?" We always decline. We refuse to play this game of "beat the dealer." What we think is hilarious, if there's nothing else to laugh about, is that on at least half of these occasions, the homeowner will phone us back in several days, saying the deal with the other business had fallen through…..and if we match that price, we can have the lot. Isn't going to happen. If we go on one of these junkets today, it's only after we've basically got a firm deal on "no competition bidding." If you trust us as dealers, then that should be enough. Bring three or four dealers in to bid on a collection, might work if the estate, for example, is of considerable value, but for a small quantity of old pine and vintage china, glass and crockery, it just isn't worth the hassle, and the nastiness that can occur between competing antique businesses. We would rather bow out and give our colleagues a break.

     The problem is that many folks simply don't understand the whole antique thing. They watch antique identification shows on television, and get freaky with their possessions, of the family estate, because they are basically told by these shows, that there could be millions of dollars in value, buried in the quagmire of household stuff. I have come to hate those shows, and what misconceptions they create amongst the antique dabblers, who after only one show, or one visit to an antique identification clinic, are experts in their field. I absolutely detest being told by one of these happenstance antique apprentices, that something is worth a thousand bucks, because they saw the same thing on the television show. I can't debunk the experts on these shows, or who attend these identification clinics, but I can justifiably get pissed off, because of the spin-off of their appraisals into my domain. We get lots of people, with pie-in-the-sky "at auction" evaluations, that they got from an expert appraiser……which was actually from a position in front of the television set, and they expect that I will give them this amount for the subject article. They have no idea what "at auction" means, and absolutely no idea what the availability of auction venues are, or what an auction house charges as commission on what they sell. We don't have auction houses here in Muskoka, so you're going to have to travel south, and even if you were to find a suitable venue, it's another thing entirely to get approval, to have this special item included in the inventory for an upcoming sale. The appraisers on these shows, do not clarify for the viewers, that the "at auction" valuations, are deceiving and not a "cash in the bank" situation. Usually, we find that they have misunderstood the appraisal, and missed some identifying mark, that will indicate whether the piece is original or a later reproduction. Honestly, I hate when this happens, because so many times, I'm manning the counter, having to tell the happy owner, the item isn't what they claim……having very little value. If they think they own a twenty-five thousand dollar painting, it's a pretty big let-down to have a guy like me, wipe that grin off their face with a sobering reappraisal…….for a copy of an original valued at twenty-five dollars……and that's just to scavenge the frame. They get really ugly real fast, and determine that the bearded man behind the counter is trying to rip them off……and then sell the painting to a collector for big, big bucks. Since 1977 and my first antique shop, I can claim a perfect record in this regard. I have never once profited from one of these treasure to trash incidents, simply because I have never offered to purchase any of the items presented to me having had a ridiculous appraisal attached……that someone had wrongly assumed, based on what they were advised by a friend, or someone in television land, who had never seen their antique or collectible article, for an in-person appraisal.

     I had a young man come into my Bracebridge shop one day, with a rather nice vintage photograph of a cycling club in Toronto, from the early part of the 1900's. He offered it to me for its appraised value. Which for me, was $500. I don't know how he presented it to other dealers, whether it was less or more than mine (and this happens all the time), but I politely declined the offer. He seemed a little offended that I didn't jump at this one, and came within a hair's breadth of calling me stupid, because I didn't take advantage of a nicely framed photograph for this low-low asking price. I tried to explain, as best I could, that I would only be able to sell that photograph for $250 at the most, and that would mean I could only pay him, at the $125, which for most antique dealers, would be more than they could justify paying out. They guy was foaming at the mouth, he was so mad. His friend, who he considered an expert in antiques, guaranteed him, that I would be glad to buy this for half a grand. I told him that his friend had given him bad advice, because I was not going to pay that amount for this old photograph. Well, he grumbled and snorted and put the framed group picture, of those cyclists, back in a large bag, and headed off up the stairs. I didn't get a "goodbye" or "see you later," from the chap, which is customary in these kind of break-heart events. They love you on the way up to the counter, but hate you very much if you don't agree with their request for funds. I don't get any pleasure from this honestly, as many of the folks wishing to sell, are down on their luck and need the funds. But we'd be out of business in a month, if we bought everything our customers wished to sell us.

     Anyway, right in the middle of my dinner, that same night, the picture owner phoned me at home…..which is a no-no unless you are a personal friend. And he wasn't. For a half an our, this guy tried to brow beat me into buying the photograph. He informed me that he had gone to another local dealer, who had offered him three hundred dollars for the frame alone. Two hundred dollars then, wasn't a lot to ask for the early 1900's black and white photograph. So I asked him why he hadn't ripped the picture out of the frame, and taken the three hundred dollars he was offered. Well sir, we find a lot of liars amongst this group of impromptu antique sellers. I knew all the other dealers he could have asked, and none of them would have offered anywhere near that amount, for the picture frame or for both. He was sure mad at me, but as antique dealers know, it's just one of those displeasures of day to day business, in a storefront, that you're going to come face to face with someone who believes they've got a Picasso, when in fact, all they've got is a crappy dime store copy in a cheap frame, that isn't worth a nickel. But you know, I still feel bad, even if they do get mad at me, for breaking their hearts…..dashing their hopes, that the book, for example, that they hold tightly in their hands, for fear that someone will steal it from them, isn't a first edition "Gone With The Wind" after all…….certainly when the date 1963 is printed inside.

     There is never a nice way of handing down bad news. Like the teenager who came into the shop with a silver table-lighter that a buddy of his said was worth two hundred dollars, and had a silver mark on the bottom, that meant it was the real McCoy. There were no hallmarks, and I had to show him the flakes of silver finish in my hands, after a light dusting of its surface. Actually, he laughed a little, and that made me feel better, and he even wished me a good afternoon when he left the room. I can live with those kind of appraisals.

     It was good to have you aboard today, for this inside glimpse of the antique enterprise. Some days it's the greatest profession on earth, and on others……kind of drag. Please join me again tomorrow, for some more recollections and stories, about antique hunting and gathering, unplugged and uncensored.