WILL NEW CENTURY C0LD WAR INSPIRE TRENDS IN MODESTY AND AUSTERITY?
LIVING IN SMALLER SPACES, WITH REDUCED EXPECTATION
IF YOU USED TO WATCH 1960'S SITCOMS, YOU WILL APPRECIATE THE SAYING "LESS IS MORE". THE WAY HOLLYWOOD JUDGED WHAT WAS NEEDED, IN RESIDENTIAL FURNISHINGS, MIRRORED THE TIMES. THE APARTMENT KEPT BY LUCY AND RICKY RICARDO, WAS ABOUT AS PLAIN AS YOU COULD GET, FOR THAT TIME PERIOD, AND THEN THERE WAS THE HOUSE AT NEW ROCHELLE, WHERE ROB AND LAURA PETRIE LIVED, ON THE DICK VAN DYKE SHOW. THE OTTOMAN, THAT ROB TRIPS OVER IN THE SHOW'S INTRODUCTION, IS AN EXTRAVAGANCE IN A VERY PLAIN LIVINGROOM. THERE WERE VERY FEW SHOWS BACK THEM, EXCEPT "THE MUNSTERS" AND "THE ADDAMS FAMILY," THAT PROMOTED CLUTTER AND EXTRAVAGANT LIVING. THOSE TWO SHOWS WERE SET WITHIN A CRAZY, POST VICTORIAN, "FUNERAL PARLOR" THEMED DECOR, TO SUIT THE CHARACTER OF THE DECEASED, "AND SHOULD HAVE STAYED DECEASED," CAST MEMBERS. I LOVED BOTH SHOWS AND GOD KNOWS I'VE TRIED TO DUPLICATE THAT THEME IN OUR OWN HOUSE. SUZANNE, AT TIMES, HAS THROWN UP HER ARMS, CLAIMING THAT I HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFUL, TURNING OUR HOUSE INTO A TRIBUTE TO HERMAN AND LILY MUNSTER. I ALWAY WANTED TO OWN HERMAN'S HEARSE MOBILE. WE DIDN'T MAKE ANDREW OR ROBERT SLEEP IN DRESSER DRAWERS LIKE EDDY MUNSTER.
MY PARENTS HAD THE SAME PHILOSOPHY, AND SPARSE, COMFORTABLE FURNISHINGS WERE ALL WE NEEDED TO GET BY, DAY TO DAY, WEEK TO WEEK. MOST OF MY FRIENDS IN BURLINGTON, AND THEN BRACEBRIDGE, IN THE LATE 1960'S, HAD THE SAME KIND OF FURNISHINGS; AND UNLESS YOU CONSIDER SOME OLD SIDEBOARDS, HOOSIER CUPBOARDS, AND FLAT-TO-THE-WALL CABINETS, THAT WERE HEIRLOOM PIECES, PASSED DOWN FROM FAMILY MEMBERS, MOST HOUSES AND APARTMENTS I VISITED WERE AS PLAIN, AND SIMPLY APPOINTED AS OURS. NOTHING MORE THAN WHAT WAS NEEDED, IF WE HAD GUESTS OVER, WHICH BACK THEN, WAS TO PLAY CARDS OR WATCH A PLAYOFF HOCKEY GAME. MY MOTHER USED TO HAVE A CARD TABLE STORED IN A CLOSET, WITH FOUR FOLDING CHAIRS, THAT WAS HAULED OUT FOR CARD GAMES, ON SATURDAY NIGHTS IN THE WINTER. SHE'D ALSO USE IT AS A BUFFET TABLE IN THE LIVINGROOM IF COMPANY WAS COMING FOR CHRISTMAS. THE KITHEN WAS PLAIN AND SO WERE THE BEDROOMS. THE PICTURES ON THE WALL WERE MODEST AND SMALL, AND THERE WAS ALWAYS TWO VASES FULL OF PLASTIC FLOWERS, ONE ON A SMALL TABLE IN FRONT OF THE WINDOW, AND THE OTHER, ON A ROUND COFFEE TABLE IN THE CENTER OF THE ROOM. MY MOTHER DIDN'T LIKE WHAT SHE CALLED "DUST CATCHERS."
I THINK THE RECENT EVENTS IN THE UKRAINE, AND THE CRIMEA, FOLLOWING RUSSIA'S MILITARY INVASION, WILL SET TRENDS BACK TO THE NINETEEN SIXTIES. IT MAY GO AS FAR AS FASHION, AND BRING BACK THE STYLES OF JACKIE KENNEDY, AND THE MOVIE STARS OF THE PERIOD. I'M NOT MAKING LIGHT OF THE TERRIBLE CIRCUMSTANCES RUSSIA HAS INFLICTED ON THE UKRAINE. QUITE THE OPPOSITE. I THINK THE REST OF THE WORLD WILL SEE THIS RETURN TO THE "COLD WAR" PERIOD, IN OUR HISTORY, AS AN OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN MORE ABOUT THE CHRONICLE OF SOVIET AGGRESSION, WHICH WAS MOST POIGNANT DURING THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS, A PERIOD IN HISTORY WHEN RUSSIANS WERE FEARED FOR WHAT THEY MIGHT UNLEASH ON THE CONTINENT; ESPECIALLY IF THERE WERE WARHEADS POSITIONED IN CUBA, AIMED AT THE UNITED STATES. MY FATHER WAS GLUED TO THE TELEVISION THROUGHOUT THIS PERIOD, WHEN HE GOT HOME FROM WORK, AND THE FEAR OF THE SOVIET UNION WAS REAL AND SINCERE, BETWEEN NEIGHBORS, FRIENDS AND FAMILY.
I DON'T THINK THERE WERE MANY NEWS WATCHERS BACK THEN, WHO WEREN'T SCARED OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF RUSSIA'S FEELING OF ENTITLEMENT. WHEN WE HAD A PARADE IN CANADA AND THE UNITED STATES, WE HAD NOVELTY FLOATS. WHEN THERE WAS A PARADE IN THE SOVIET UNION, THERE WAS A MILITARY CONVOY WITH HONKING BIG MISSILES MOUNTED ON TRUCKS. MILITARY ASSETS WERE MORE IMPORTANT THAN STORY BOOK THEMES ON FLATBED TRUCKS. I WAS SCARED TO DEATH, ONE OF THESE MISSILES WAS GOING TO FIND US, MY FAMILY, IN BURLINGTON. I'M SORRY IF THIS HURTS THE FEELINGS OF KIND FOLKS OF RUSSIAN ETHNICITY, BUT IT'S EXACTLY THE WAY MANY OF US FELT. AND FOR A LONG, LONG TIME. I HAVE NEVER FELT RIGHT ABOUT THIS AND I HAVE LONG WANTED TO CHANGE THIS LIFE-LONG JADED OPINION. BUT IN THE 1972 HOCKEY SERIES, BETWEEN THE RUSSIANS AND TEAM CANADA, IT WAS SUCH AN AMAZING FEELING, WINNING THAT FINAL GAME; WHICH FOR MORE THAN A FEW OF US, WAS LIKE KICKING THE RUSSIAN BEAR IN THE ASS. THE LEAST THEY DESERVED FOR SHADOWING OUR LIVES WITH THE FEAR OF GLOBAL WAR FOR ALL THOSE YEARS OF OUR YOUNG LIVES. I'M SURE MANY BABY BOOMERS SHARED THAT BIG WIN THE SAME WAY. BUT IT WAS ALSO THE TURNING POINT FOR US AT THE SAME TIME, AS THE RUSSIAN GOALIE, VLADISLAV TRETIAK, BECAME HUGELY POPULAR TO NORTH AMERICANS, BECAUSE OF WHAT WE PERCEIVED TO BE THE KINDER GENERATION OF A REFORMING NATION. MAYBE WE WERE WRONG, BUT I DON'T THINK SO. TRETIAK IS STILL ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR RUSSIANS, BECAUSE OF HIS SHOW OF SPORTSMANSHIP A LONG TIME AGO. HE DIDN'T BRING ABOUT THAT SOFTENING ON HIS OWN, BUT IT'S WHAT WE WERE THINKING, TRUTH BE KNOWN. WE COULDN'T BE NERVOUS IN THE COMPANY OF TRETIAK. HE WAS WHAT WE SAW AS THE NEW SOVIET UNION, AND I STILL FEEL THE SAME TODAY, AS I DID, WHEN I SAW HIS BREATH-TAKING PERFORMANCE DURING THAT EPIC HOCKEY SERIES.
WE DON'T APPRECIATE WHAT RESIDENCES LOOK LIKE IN PLACES SUCH AS THE UKRAINE AND THE CRIMEA. WE DON'T HAVE TOO MUCH KNOWLEDGE ABOUT LIVING ARRANGEMENTS THROUGHOUT EUROPE. WHAT WE HAVE HERE ON THIS CONTINENT, IS WHAT WE ASSUME EXISTS ALL OVER THE WORLD, WITH HUGE HOUSES WITH MASSIVE FLOOR SPACE, FULL OF "MORE IS DESIRED" FURNISHINGS AND ACCENTS TO THE HIGHEST LEVEL OF EXTRAVAGANCE. MOST OF US DON'T APPRECIATE HOW MODEST LIVING SPACES CAN BE, IN OTHER COUNTRIES, WHERE THERE ARE ECONOMIC DISADVANTAGES AND AREAS OF HIGH UNEMPLOYMENT. APARTMENTS FOR US ARE SPRAWLING, IN RELATION TO MUCH SMALLER ACCOMMODATIONS IN EUROPE AND ACROSS THE CONTINENT. IT'S NOT TO SUGGEST THERE AREN'T HUGE AND EXTRAVAGANT HOUSES THERE, BUT ON AN AVERAGE, WE WOULD FIND THE SAME RESIDENTIAL BUDGET MUCH MORE RESTRICTIVE AND FUNDAMENTAL. IN NORTH AMERICA GENERALLY, A THOUSAND SQUARE FOOT APARTMENT OR SMALL HOUSE, IS CRAMPED LIVING ON A BUDGET. EVEN THOUGH TODAY, CONDOS ARE COMING ON THE MARKET WITH MUCH SMALLER RESIDENTIAL UNITS, FOR SINGLE OCCUPANTS AND COUPLES. BUT IN MANY EUROPEAN CITIES THEY ARE QUITE NORMAL AND ACCEPTABLE. I SUPPOSE YOU MIGHT SAY WE'RE A TAD SPOILED BY LIVING IN LESS POPULATED AREAS, WITH LESSER PROPERTY VALUES, ALLOWING FOR SUCH EXPANSIVE DWELLING PLACES. BUT WE NEED TO WISE UP TO A MORE FRUGAL, MODEST WAY OF LIVING IN THE FUTURE. A LITTLE THROW-BACK TO THE 1950'S AND 60'S. IT WON'T KILL US TO DOWNSIZE AND IT WILL SAVE US MONEY.
SO IF THERE IS A TREND CHANGE, IN LIVING AND ITS FASHIONABLE DESIGN, SUZANNE AND I WILL BE ON TOP OF IT, BECAUSE IT IS VERY MUCH A PART OF THE ANTIQUE AND COLLECTABLE BUSINESS. WHENEVER THERE IS SERIOUS WORLD CONFLICT, AND WARS BREAKING OUT HERE AND THERE, WE SEE A HUGE JUMP IN DEMAND FOR THOSE TRADITIONAL HOME COMFORTS. NOSTALGIA FROM THE PERIOD OF THE 1960'S AND 70'S ESPECIALLY, IS VERY POPULAR, AND IN THE PAST YEAR, WE'VE HAD A HARD TIME KEEPING PIECES IN STOCK, AND THAT INCLUDES EVERYTHING FROM DINING-WARE TO GAME BOARDS, AND ELECTRIC LAMPS, PHONOGRAPHS, RADIOS, AND MOOD SETTERS, LIKE ART WORK AND VINTAGE KITCHEN APPLIANCES; SUCH AS THE POPULAR MIX-MASTERS AND EARLY BLENDERS.
THERE IS A FORTUNATE / UNFORTUNATE SPIN-OFF FROM THE ONSET OF THE NEWEST ROUND OF "COLD WAR" FEARS. WE ARE IN GREAT SYMPATHY WITH THE CITIZENS OF THE UKRAINE, AND CRIMEA, AND WE WISH THE RUSSIANS WOULD JUST GO HOME. BUT THIS ISN'T GOING TO HAPPEN, ANY TIME SOON. SO WE HAVE TO GET USED TO THIS NEW THREAT TO WORLD SECURITY HERE ON OUR CONTINENT AS WELL. WILL IT BRING BACK THE CHARACTER AND FASHION OF THE COLD WAR ERA? YES IT WILL. THE BEST PART, HOWEVER, IS IF THIS BECOMES AN UNWARRANTED TREND, AND TURN OF HISTORY, BECAUSE THE CRISIS IS AVERTED, AND ALL GOES BACK TO NORMAL. THE ODDS OF THIS, UNDERSTANDABLY, ARE HIGH AND UNLIKELY.
A DAY TO TRAVEL, SEEK AND FIND
ALAS, I AM A SLAVE OF MY PROFESSION - THE WRITER - NOT THE ANTIQUE COLLECTOR
I'VE GOT A BIG WELT WHERE I KEEP PINCHING MYSELF. IT'S JANUARY. NOT APRIL. THIS IS A PERFECT SPRING-LIKE DAY TO HIT THE OPEN ROAD. OF COURSE, I WOULD BE DOING SO, ON MY OWN, AS THE BOYS HAVE TO OPEN THE SHOP, AND SUZANNE'S AT WORK. YOU SEE THAT'S ONE OF THE PROBLEMS ASSOCIATED WITH THE HOME-ALONE OFFICE, WHICH I'VE BEEN WORKING FROM SINCE ANDREW WAS IN HIS THIRD MONTH. I OPTED TO STAY HOME AS A MR. MOM, WHILE SUZANNE RETURNED TO TEACHING. I STAYED ON WHEN ROB WAS BORN, A COUPLE OF YEARS LATER, AND IT'S WORKED PRETTY WELL UP TO AND INCLUDING THE PRESENT.
OF COURSE, IT'S A LITTLE GENTLER AND QUIETER HERE NOW, WITH THE BOYS ALL GROWN-UP AND ALL. I DON'T HAVE TO BREAK UP FIGHTS OVER TOYS, OR INTERCEPT A TOSSED PEANUT BUTTER AND JAM SANDWICH, THAT ONE OF THE LITTLE DARLINGS MAY HAVE TOSSED AT THE OTHER. SO OUTSIDE OF LOOKING AFTER THE FAMILY PETS, AND WORKING ON FURNITURE RESTORATIONS, ON SOME NEWLY ACQUIRED ANTIQUE PIECES, THIS KEYBOARD IS THE BIGGEST REASON FOR ANY PRE-OCCUPATION AT ALL. IN FACT, I NOW HAVE ENOUGH EDITORIAL PROJECTS LINED-UP, TO HONESTLY SAY……"I COULDN'T GO ANTIQUE HUNTING TODAY DEAR, BECAUSE I HAD TOO MUCH WORK TO DO." IT'S ALWAYS BEEN THE OTHER WAY AROUND.
SEEING AS I'M VERY ORGANIZED, AND A PROLIFIC WRITER, MOST DAYS I CAN DO ALL THE WRITING JAGS NECESSARY, AND BE FREE BY LUNCH…..WITH TIME FOR A LITTLE TOODLE TO A SECOND HAND OR ANTIQUE SHOP. I GOT MYSELF INTO TWO NEWS SERIES OF FEATURE COLUMNS FOR SEVERAL PUBLICATIONS, TO RUN OVER THE YEAR. I NEED THE SUMMER MONTHS TO HIT THE ROAD IN QUEST OF ANTIQUES, SO IT MEANS I HAVE TO GET EVERYTHING DONE WELL IN ADVANCE. I HATE WRITING IN THE HEAT, AND I DON'T LIKE MISSING SUMMER DAYS WHEN SUZANNE HAS TIME TO ROAM. SO IT'S TYPICALLY THE CASE, THAT WITH STORMS HOWLING OUTSIDE, AND SNOW DRIFTING AGAINST THE DOORWAY, I DON'T FEEL SHORT-CHANGED AT ALL, TO SIT HERE IN MY OFFICE, WORKING AWAY AT THESE WRITING PROJECTS. I DON'T FEEL I'M MISSING ANYTHING BY BEING INDOORS. EXCEPT FROST-BITE. TODAY IT IS JUST THE OPPOSITE, AND I MAY WIND-UP HEADING DOWN THE ROAD LATER THIS AFTERNOON, JUST FOR A SHORT DART, IN AND OUT OF THE RE-STORE, ONE OF MY FAVORITE LOCAL HAUNTS. I'LL LET YOU KNOW IF I CAN BREAK THE CHAIN OF OBLIGATION, TO FOLLOW THE ALLURE OF THE OPEN ROAD.
DAVE BROWN AND I SHARED A LOT IN COMMON - LIKE THE HONEYMOONS WE TOOK WITH SPOUSES
DAVE BROWN AND HIS WIFE HAD THEIR HONEYMOON ON THE BATTLEFIELD AT GETTYSBURG. I KNOW THAT ONE OF YOU JUST BLURTED OUT, "GEEZ, THAT WAS ROMANTIC!" SUZANNE AND I HAD OUR HONEYMOON AT COLONIAL WILLIAMSBURG, WHERE I SPENT MY QUALITY TIME HOLED-UP IN THE OLD PRINT SHOP. YEA, I KNOW BEFORE YOU THINK IT. I'M NOT A ROMANTIC. SUZANNE ACTUALLY HAD TO STRONG-ARM ME OUT OF THE BUILDING, WHILE MUTTERING SOMETHING ABOUT MAKING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE, AND THAT SHE SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO HER MOTHER.
DAVE AND I WERE BOTH HISTORIANS. OUR SPECIALITY WAS CANADIAN HISTORY BUT WE BOTH DABBLED IN AMERICAN HISTORY; AND MOST DEFINITELY REGIONAL HISTORIES THROUGHOUT NORTH AMERICA. AS FAR AS BOOKS GO, THAT IS! WE BOTH MARRIED GALS WHO UNDERESTIMATED JUST HOW CRAZY IT COULD GET, BEING MARRIED TO HISTORY HOARDERS. DAVE'S WIFE TOLD HIM MANY TIMES, DURING THEIR SHORT MARRIAGE, THAT HIS BOOK COLLECTING WAS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL. SHE COULD LIVE WITH THE WEE BEASTIES HE BROUGHT HOME, LIKE SWAMP REPTILES IN THE BATH-TUB, PART OF HIS OUTDOOR EDUCATION WORK, BUT THERE HAD TO BE A LIMIT ON THE BOOKS STACKED ALL OVER THE PLACE. AND FROM WHAT I'VE HEARD FROM NUMEROUS SOURCES, SHE GAVE HIM A CLEAR CHOICE, BETWEEN CARRYING-ON WITH THEIR MARRIAGE, OR CONTINUING WITH HIS BIBLIOMANIA. DAVE BECAME A SINGLE MAN, WITH A HELL OF A LOT OF BOOKS.
MR. CURRIE, ON THE OTHER HAND, WAS WARNED ABOUT BOOKS, OTHER THAN ACTUAL COOKBOOKS, GETTING INTO RESTRICTED AREAS. THEY COULD NOT BE SHELVED IN THE KITCHEN, BATHROOM, OR HER BEDROOM. SO I FILLED EVERYTHING ELSE, AND HER BEDROOM. I DID MAKE MAJOR AMENDS THIS PAST SUMMER, BY REMOVING THE TWO THOUSAND TITLES FROM HER BEDSIDE, LEAVING ONLY A COUPLE OF HUNDRED ADJACENT TO MY CLOSET. IN FACT, COMING TO MY SENSES, OVER THE PAST THREE YEARS, I'VE GOT RID OF THOUSANDS OF BOOKS THAT WEREN'T OF ANY GREAT USE, ACKNOWLEDGING AT THE SAME TIME, I'D GOT A LITTLE TOO PASSIONATE ABOUT COLLECTING STUFF. I WASN'T GOING TO LOSE MY WIFE OVER SEVERAL THOUSAND BOOKS, LIKE DAVE DID. COMPROMISE WASN'T SO HARD. I ACCUSED HER THE OTHER DAY OF BEING A WOOL HOARDER, BECAUSE OF THE LARGE INVENTORY OF MATERIAL IN RESERVE, FOR HER THOUSAND AND ONE KNITTING PROJECTS. SHE WAS NOT AMUSED. "AFTER HAVING TO LIVE WITH YOUR EXCESSES FOR THE FIRST HALF OF OUR MARRIAGE, TELL YOU WHAT……SUCK IT UP BUDDY, THE WOOL STAYS," SHE CALMLY REMINDED OF HER STAKE IN THE MATRIMONIAL HOME……INCH BY INCH APPARENTLY.
Dave Brown liked his independence. An only child, the son of a well respected Hamilton physician, Dave liked being able to disappear when not teaching, and explore places he'd never been. But with the exception of the United States, he stayed pretty much in Ontario, where he found enough adventure to feel fulfilled. He loved to camp on his own in some very wild places, and when I asked him about the intrusion of bears, and wolves, he said there had never been anything to worry about. I always suspected Dave was part wolf anyway, and when his anger rose to the surface, let me tell you……it was best to stand back. He wasn't a loud objector, but with Dave you always kind of wondered if he might give you a crushing bear hug or something. He told me once, that he had been attacked by what he referred to as a wild dog, encountered at an isolated farmstead in Southern Ontario. He was able to get out of its way by climbing a nearby ladder. The dog wouldn't let him get down. "I was up there about two hours, trying to make friends with the animal, but he would have nothing to do with it," Dave told me. "It was getting late, and as it was in October, the darkness was closing in. I couldn't sleep on the ladder, and I knew this creature was going to bite me if I tried to make a run for the car." "I took my hammer, and thought well, I've got one shot, so I better be able to knock him out, because there's nothing else but car keys to fend him off," said Dave. "I really didn't want to hurt the dog but it was him or me. I got as close as I could, without getting in his mouth, and threw the hammer. It hit him right on the head. He looked kind of stunned, got glassy eyed, and just fell over. Gone. I killed him with one throw. I felt bad because I like dogs. Just not this one." I never knew if Dave was kidding me about this, but as conservation-minded as he lived, truth was, he'd have likely hurt himself badly, eventually falling off that ladder. I'm pretty sure I would have, with genuine reluctance, followed the same course of action. Just now, Bosko looked at me, with eyes of concern. It's like she knew what I'd just written. This dog may be smarter than I thought.
THE ESTATE BOOK SALE
Dave had many connections in the book world. Truth be known, Dave had known connections to the underworld. As a result of his moonlighting work with large construction firms, that gave him permission to scavenge old architectural (heritage) pieces, from demolition sites, Dave knew that some of the associations he kept, put him under police surveillance. It got to be a joke around school, that Dave could make people he disliked disappear. I remember the night he said this to Suzanne and I, while toasting our friendship, with a glass of wine. For a couple of moments, Suzanne and I looked at each other, and pondered silently whether the guy on the sofa was a sort of teacher-Soprano mobster. "Don't worry Ted and Suzanne, I like you guys." Most of this story is true. He did have friends in unusually high places, and the cops were watching him. He said it was often the case, especially after an underworld incident, when police would show up with cameras, watching who was coming, going and hanging around these sites. Knowing Dave, even mobsters couldn't deter him from the salvage job, to save architectural heritage. Dave never had a bad word to say about his mates either.
One night, sitting out on the deck, looking over the gardens with hummingbirds flitting about, and bees still buzzing around the spring lilacs, he told us about his recent experience, at an estate book sale, on the eastern seaboard of the United States. I presume it was in New York State, though I don't remember him mentioning the community itself. Just the circumstances of the sale. Dave had a lot of American colleagues, and whether it was Chicago or New York, he knew the old book sellers. Whenever he could, he took off south, because it's where he apparently got the best deals on the books he most desired. On this occasion, a book dealer friend took him to an estate book sale, run by a charitable group that often hosted these type of dispersals, to benefit a cause. The book seller and Dave went to preview the books being placed for sale, on the day before the event was to open. It was also the time when you had to get a number, as a patron of the sale. That's how regimented and well attended the events were. I don't know how they managed this, but they were able to get four or five reserve tickets, which would cover five individuals to get into the sale…..in sequence. The organizers, you see, would only let so many buyers in at one time. Other dealers were doing the same thing, and a few were getting as many as ten reservations. I'm not sure if they actually cost something, but possibly they did. So here's what happened on the morning of the sale.
When Dave and his book dealer friend arrived, there were quite a few people already lined up for the opening. They gave their numbers to the organizer, and slotted into place. Dave could see, as far as the numbers went, that there was a shortfall of bodies. It worked this way. If only ten or twenty people were admitted to the sale to start with, there may be only four or five buyers making up the first 20 numbers. This meant that despite the few number actually prepared to shop for old books, organizers went by the ticket numbers, and not the bodies present. What they believed mistakenly, was those absent would soon show up, once the door opened, and for the half hour allotted, these would be the only folks allowed in. But there were no bodies attached to the numbers. The dealers, to minimize the competition, applied and received extra numbers, to push competitors further back. So when Dave got in, during the first round, there were only a few actual buyers mucking about inside. Despite protests, it was on a number basis, bodies or not.
Dave didn't find many books he wanted, but was satisfied with a few natural histories from the early 1800's. He saw an interesting pile of books in a corner, and decided to have a look-see. As he was going through the first five or six books on the top of the pile, he saw the feet of another shopper, push toe-first in toward the book stack. "What are you doing with my books buddy," asked the gentleman attached to the feet below. "I'm just looking at them," answered Dave. "Is that a problem?" When he looked up to see who was addressing him, the chap was patting the side of his jacket, while glaring. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they were your books," Dave replied, backing slowly away from the corner stash. The man nodded his acceptance of Dave's ignorance, and soon began asking about what Dave had found at the sale. It didn't take too long, as was Dave's inherent talent, to win the guy over completely, and before the half hour was up, they had agreed to have lunch before he had to return to Canada. Dave told me, the reason the chap was hitting his coat, was to indicate that there was a side-arm underneath, should Dave have had plans to remove any books off the pile. He said that the dealer had just recently suffered a big loss of books, at a similar sale, when another buyer scoffed his entire pile of books he intended to purchase. So the weapon was going to be used as a persuader, you see, to encourage the next interloper to back off. Is it a true story? Seeing as Dave passed away more than a decade ago, I really can't prove it beyond reasonable doubt, just like the assertion he had once killed an angry dog, or that he could make people disappear. But as his biographer, I tried to cross reference as much as I could. I had to trust Dave's word on this one.
The reality is, that many rare books can fetch a king's ransom, that's for sure. The gentleman may well have lost ten or fifteen thousand dollars worth of books, to the competitor who claimed his book stash. The right books, on the right subjects, with potentially the most desirable autographs, can certainly help you buy a new car, a new house, and a really nice vacation. But these books are from special collections, wealthy estates, and are not by any means common finds on the thrift shop shelf. On occasion you can pick up a decent autograph, and a twenty dollar-plus out-of-print book, at a second hand venue. Just not often. Which explains why these estate book sales were so competitive that they required small arms protection. If there was a first edition "Alice in Wonderland," well, that would be worth a substantial wrestle, to come out on top. I haven't once felt the necessity to wrestle a single soul, for the treasures offered by the local second hand shops. Good finds are not the same as "money" finds, in situations like Dave experienced, south of the border.
There was only one occasion of this happening, when Suzanne, picked a hundred dollar book from the mountains of library cast-offs, during a fundraising sale here in Gravenhurst. She did it right in front of Dave and I. Well sir, Dave was not impressed by the rookie's big win. I tried to speak to her, eye to eye, something that would have sounded, if spoken, like "for God's sakes Suzanne, the man can make people disappear. Give him the damn book." Dave was moody this way, and told me he was going to head back to the city sooner than anticipated. He wished us good afternoon, took off to Birch Hollow to pick up his gear, and then headed home to Hamilton. Later that night, he phone Suzanne to offer an apology for his hasty retreat. Dave was the kind of bloke who didn't like to lose, at what ever project he was occupied. But he was the kind of tutor I needed, in the profession, because frankly, I was too much of a pacifist for my own good. Dave inspired me to be a bit more of a hustler, a little more of a trail blazer, and a lot more adventurous as an antique hunter, no matter what the circumstance.
How tough and determined was Dave Brown. Only days before his death, and knowing full well the reaper was close by, he left the hospital on a pass, to have dinner with a teacher friend. He insisted on going to a restaurant that happened to be close to one of this favorite book shops. He went in, and nodded to his chum, "you never know when you're going to find a good book." He did. He found one. Alas, he never finished reading it. But he benefitted a lot of book lovers in the end, who very much recognized, in earnest, the qualifications of this curmudgeon book hound.
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