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| "Today I stopped across the road from the empty Gravenhurst Train Station and felt my eyes water up and a lump in my throat. The Train Station was my escape from everything and I could dream of a train trip into the North or Downtown Toronto. My biggest decision was either to enjoy a delicious egg salad sandwich or another one of my favourites, Salmon. Not only to I miss the Ontario Northlander, but I miss the station every time I want to escape and have some peaceful time and space. These photos were taken a year ago during one of my noon hour visits on a beautiful August day. That the way I want to remember the Train Station." (photo and quote by Fred Schulz) |
BREAKING NEWS: SHORTLY AFTER THE PRE-STORM SUNSET, AND THE ENCROACHING DARKNESS OVER THE TOWN OF GRAVENHURST, THIS EVENING, IT WAS SO WONDERFUL TO ONCE AGAIN SEE THE SOFT ILLUMINATION RETURN, TO THE FAMOUS TOWER OF THE GRAVENHURST OPERA HOUSE…..WHICH HAS NOT BEEN SEEN IN QUITE A NUMBER OF YEARS. A NEW BULB, AND A NEWLY FINISHED ROOF. THE CARNEGIE IN RESTORATION. WHAT AN EXCITING AND BUSY TOWN SQUARE THIS SHALL BE……AND OF THIS WE SHOULD BE DELIGHTED TO PARTICIPATE AS PATRONS, SPECTATORS AND VOLUNTEERS, TO RETURN IT TO ITS ORIGINAL STATUS……AS THE TRUE CENTRE OF TOWN.
THE EXCITEMENT FACTOR OF EACH NEW ANTIQUE ADVENTURE - YEA, THAT'S WHAT KEEPS US GOING
THE CHARACTERS OF THE PROFESSION - AND WHY THEY REMAIN DEALERS THROUGH BOOM AND BUST
VERY POSSIBLY, THERE WILL BE AN ANTIQUE DEALER REVOLT AROUND THE WORLD; PROFESSIONALS IN THIS ANCIENT "HUNT AND GATHER" ENTERPRISE, PISSED-OFF AT THIS BLOGGER, FOR BOLDLY, AND WITHOUT RESERVATION, ANNOUNCING THAT THE INDUSTRY IS FULL TO OVERFLOWING WITH ECCENTRIC, UNIQUE, COLORFUL AND EGOTISTICAL CHARACTERS, SUITABLE TO THEIR CALLING. MUCH AS IF PENNED BY THE WRITERS OF FICTION, SOME CRITICS MIGHT ARGUE. FOLKS SO FULL OF THEMSELVES, THEY HAVE A HARD TIME FITTING THE CONCERNS OF OTHERS ONTO THEIR FULL AGENDAS. THEY CAN ONLY SEE THEIR REFLECTED IMAGES IN SPECIAL MIRRORS THAT RECOGNIZE THE FULLNESS OF ACHIEVEMENT.
REFERRING TO THEMSELVES AS MEMBERS OF THE ANTIQUE COMMUNITY, WITH AN OBVIOUS POMPOSITY, HAPPY TO CARRY ON A TRADITION HUNDREDS OF YEARS IN THE MAKING. SINCE I BEGAN WRITING DAILY ABOUT THE ANTIQUE PROFESSION, AS I HAVE KNOWN IT, SINCE MY FIRST MISERABLE FORAY INTO MAIN STREET ANTIQUES, BACK IN 1977, AND AS AN ANTIQUE AND COLLECTABLES COLUMNIST, THE YEAR AFTER, I HAVE SPENT HOURS UPON HOURS DELVING BACK THROUGH A QUAGMIRE OF RECOLLECTIONS……ABOUT MY MENTORS IN THE INDUSTRY, AND ALL THE COLLEAGUES I'VE KNOWN IN ANTIQUES EVER SINCE. I'VE BEEN IMMERSED IN THE REGIONAL ANTIQUE TRADE, IN FACT, SINCE 1975, WHEN I FIRST STARTED ATTENDING COUNTRY AUCTIONS…..AND THINKING ABOUT THE VERY REAL POSSIBILITY, I WOULD MAKE A DECENT ANTIQUE RETAILER…..ONE DAY.
I HAVE TO TELL YOU, IN CASE YOU ARE SITTING ON THE FENCE YOURSELF, WONDERING IF YOU SHOULD TAKE THE PLUNGE…….WELL SIR, THE CRITERIA FROM THE BEGINNING, AND ALL THE PRELIMINARY RESEARCH I DID IN ADVANCE, TO SEE IF I COULD MAKE A GO OF IT, WAS LARGELY A WASTE OF TIME, AND IRRELEVANT TO THE FINAL OUTCOME. AS MUCH AS I THOUGHT I KNEW WHEN I BEGAN, QUICKLY ERODED IN MY FIRST FULL YEAR OF FRONT LINE SHOP-KEEPING; WHAT I THOUGHT WAS SECURE AND CREDIBLE ADVICE, CRUMBLED LIKE A COOKIE, WHEN I'D GRAB ON TO REGAIN MY BALANCE. I WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF, TO HAVE MADE RETAIL EDUCATION THE NUMBER ONE PRIORITY, INSTEAD OF BEING AS HEAVILY WEIGHTED, AS I WAS, IN ANTIQUES AND COLLECTABLES GENERALLY. I KNEW MY ANTIQUES PRETTY WELL, FOR A NEWBIE, BUT GEEZ, I SUCKED AT MAIN STREET RETAIL. SO REGARDLESS OF THOSE WHO TRIED TO WARN ME I WAS MAKING A MISTAKE, I OPENED AN ATTRACTIVE, WELL STOCKED LITTLE SHOP, IN AN EARLY 1900'S HOME, ONCE BELONGING TO DR. PETER MCGIBBON, ON THE MAIN STREET OF BRACEBRIDGE; WHICH SHOULD HAVE MET ALL THE CRITERIA OF "LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION." I FIGURED THAT ALL I WOULD HAVE TO DO THUSLY, IS JAM THE ROOMS WITH AN INTERESTING GENERAL COLLECTION OF ANTIQUE FURNITURE, PAINTINGS, VINTAGE GLASS, PINE CHAIRS, PARLOR TABLES, ANTIQUE CHINA AND POTTERY, THEN OPEN THE DOOR, STAND CLEAR, AND THEN TEND THE WANTS OF THE MASSES. THAT DOOR WAS OPEN A LONG TIME BEFORE THE FIRST CUSTOMER WANDERED IN, AND EVEN THEN, SHE WAS LOOKING FOR NEW POSTCARDS. THE FIRST CUSTOMER IN TWO DAYS, WANTED A SOUVENIR BASED INVENTORY. GREAT. IT WAS A LONG TIME BEFORE WE MADE OUR FIRST LEGITIMATE ANTIQUE SALE. EVEN THEN, THE LADY WHO BOUGHT MY PINE JAM CUPBOARD, WOULD ONLY COMPLETE THE DEAL IF I DULLED DOWN THE HIGH LUSTER VARNISH…..WHICH TOOK ME THREE HOURS, TO COMPLETE. SO THERE WENT MY PROFIT. JUST ONE OF HUNDREDS OF COMPOUNDING LEARNING EXPERIENCES, ROLLED UP INTO THREE YEARS OF ANTIQUE-DEALER BOOT CAMP
THE INHERENT PROBLEMS OF BEING COCKY……AND TOO STUBBORN TO ADMIT FAILURE
When I decided to set up my first antique shop, I was awfully fond of myself. I had just graduated with a degree in Canadian history from York University, launched the Bracebridge Historical Society, made a play to purchase and restore an historic octagonal home, known as Woodchester Villa, and got approval for my first column on antiques and collectables, which ran in a new town publication, known as the Bracebridge Examiner. Gail, my girlfriend at the time, was generally disgusted at how arrogant I'd become, since declaring myself a full fledged, flag waving antique dealer. Here's an example of the way I became, on my unintentional mission to become a giant ass in my new profession.
I got a call from a businessman in Bracebridge, by the name of Al Prowse, who owned an old warehouse north on Manitoba Street, which at one time had been a dance hall, known as the Lilac Inn. He told me, that in the building, there were four nice iron beds from a local hotel, with their brass finials. He wanted rid of them. I needed inventory. Seeing as I was doing some restoration work, as part of our small business, which was then known as "Old Mill Antiques," I thought they would make a great winter project. Gail offered to drive her mother and I to the warehouse, for a look-see. Her mother was also very interested in antiques and, while I didn't know it at the time, was eager to get one of the iron beds at least. So here I am accepting a ride from my girlfriend, after her mother had just served me a wonderful lunch, and when we entered the warehouse, I lunged like a greedy kid in a sandbox, throwing my arms over all the iron beds stacked up against the wall. I was only kidding right? That's what Gail's mother asked? "You don't mean to tell me you plan on taking all the beds Ted?" she asked. "Yes," was all I could muster, being sprawled out over the rusted metal. "But I want one, and Gail may want one as well," she continued, while I was negotiating with my friend Al, trying to seal the deal before anyone else could horn in on a good thing. I got those four beds for twenty bucks each. They all had their brass fittings and balls for the side posts, and when they were refurbished, re-painted and the brass cleaned-up, sold for a hundred and fifty bucks each. No, I didn't relent to the pressure of mother and daughter, and I even wanted to lash them to the top of her Volkswagon for the trip to my shop. What a tool is right? I couldn't understand why they wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the weekend. I actually got mad at them, for trying to weasel inventory away from "The Dealer." Talk about high and mighty. The making of an insensitive ass! That was chapter one in my biography!
So let's put this in perspective, and keep in mind, I'm not the only antique dealer who could offer up a similar confessional, to cleanse the old conscience. Gail and I had gone together for just about five years. She had to put up with my carousing, heavy drinking, partying, and driving me home, after getting plastered, and then, on top of everything else, having to deal with my newfound over-confidence as a rookie antique dealer. So in my first year as a self absorbed antique dealer, I began putting all the negative attributes together, into one five foot eight body and mind, and it sure strained relations in all the ways you'd expect. When after my first full year, in antique retail, I had lost every penny I invested, caused my relationship with Gail and her family to fail, and, of all things I hadn't expected, I found it rather imperative to get a real job. The business was then run by my mother for the next two years, until she and my father moved to Parry Sound to accept new jobs in the lumber industry, of which my father was a long time sales manager. I started a new job as a reporter. So here was the headline in my biography to that point: "ANTIQUE DEALER UPSTART, THWACKED BY HARD FACTS OF POOR ECONOMY……POOR RETAIL MANAGEMENT…..AND BLEW-UP A FIVE YEAR RELATIONSHIP AT THE SAME TIME."
So what began for me as a pure and honest entry into the antique profession, wasn't quite as sweet and productive as I may have given the impression, so far in this series of new year blogs. It has been kind of hard to admit, that I had been this narrow focused and greedy. I was devastated early on, by the fact we couldn't get customers into the shop. When we did, they were either looking for something we didn't have, or just shoplifting for recreation. In the first month, we lost ten significant pieces, including a vintage ten dollar bill, from a small glass showcase. We were missing rent every month, and subsidizing it from savings and cash reserves, that were supposed to be used to replenish our inventory. It was the start of the fiscal vicious cycle, and when I did get to go to an auction, I'd only be able to spend half what I should have been able…..because we still had to put on a good show, for as long we had the shop open. The second disaster, was that I became so obsessed with my own potential, and early successes, that I forgot how vitally important my girlfriend and her family were to me……in so many ways. Especially, having been my boosters, when I first declared an interest in opening an antique shop. Truthfully, they helped us launch the business, and then I became more concerned about my station in life, and enterprise, and completely took for granted that my gal pal would always be there.
If you believe in Karma, and its role in these life and spiritual situations, it's to be presumed then, that I was taught a profound moral lesson. I had become a character out of a Charles Dickens story. I was the re-animation of Ebeneezer Scrooge, and my fixation with money above all else, caused me to neglect the one person who had been at my side the whole time, that these antique shop plans were being debated and analyzed. Gail was the mate driving me back and forth from antique auctions, shops and markets, and having to put up with huge quantities of collectable finds, and art panels, jammed into her small car…..which made many uncomfortable rides home. I was aghast, that she had given me the "proverbial heave-ho," as a boyfriend, to pursue a better life. It took a couple of weeks, to stop feeling like the injured party, and realize I was the guilty son-of-a-bitch, who had been making her life a misery. My early foray in the antique business was a disaster on all fronts. I knew my antiques. I was an astute buyer. I did my homework, read the books, knew the valuations of pieces before I made the purchases, but to my genuine shock, I knew very little about promoting and running a retail outlet. Relationship appreciation was also a pretty serious failing. My parents knew how to run a shop but knew absolutely nothing about antiques…..other than what I explained to them…..hourly. So it necessitated me being in the shop constantly, for fear that they would be approached by someone selling antiques out of their vehicle…….knowing full well my mother would be more than willing to make a purchase without consultation. The bottom line for me, was that while I wanted to be an antique dealer, because of its tradition and relationship with history, I jumped in with both feet, and found out what a quagmire looks like for the inside out.
I haven't righted this Karma issue in all these years. I have never once offered a meaningful apology to those folks, Gail and her mother, Alice, who I wronged in so many ways, by being an egotistical jerk……a Scrooge, and a "clutching, grasping, covetous old sinner," as even Dickens would have penned of me, had he known my resume. I loved antiques and collectables, and I knew that eventually I would be able to rebound. It cost me every antique item I owned, including my first vintage oil lamp collection, my antique bottle selection (upwards of 500), and many personal pieces I hadn't intended to sell, but had to in the heat of the moment……so as to not stick my parents with the shortfall. As a result of the meaty collection I did have, when we opened the shop, I was able to cover all my debts, and put some additional funds toward a rental car, that I needed in order to drive to MacTier every day, to make a weekly wage as a cub reporter. But the real loss, was that I sacrificed a very kind gal in the process of being a rising star in the antique profession. I lost the companionship of her family, for the same reason. I might have been able to make the money back that I lost,…..which I did in time, and even some of the antiques I had been forced to sell….but I never regained the relationship that helped me get started in the first place.
I don't know how many veteran antique dealers would wish to lay all these intimate foibles out for public scrutiny. But I'm reasonably sure I haven't been the only knob in the profession, to have sacrificed way too much, just to call ourselves "antique dealers." As this is biographical for my sons, Andrew and Robert, I want them to know how their pop learned about humility and consequence, by pursuing a highly demanding, and always precarious profession in antiques and collectables……which they are now imbedded deeply here in Gravenhurst. I'll have a few more confessionals about the trials and tribulations, successes and failures in the antique profession in upcoming blogs. And folks, there are some hilarious recollections you won't want to miss. If you think antique dealers are a conservative bunch…..who don't know how to have fun…..stay tuned for a lighter look at this historic and traditional enterprise of buying, selling, hunting and gathering.
Thanks for dropping by today. Are you ready for the early spring "winter" storm…..for something completely different? Hey, most of us old-time Muskokans can remember lots of snow occasions in April in the past…..so this isn't all that rare a weather event. Unless I also have to shovel my roof. Now that would be a record breaker. Drive carefully out there.
Please visit my other blog at http://muskokaaswaldenpond.blogspot.ca/
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