A Family Business With All The Trimmings

A Family Business With All The Trimmings  - Especially The Shared Philosophy To Let The Good Times Roll

By Ted Currie (On Behalf of the Currie family, Suzanne, Andrew and Robert)

     Yes, this is going to be a year of, well, "The Biography." I think, as a voyeur, you will find it, at the very least, interesting and a tad strange. Hopefully, "strange" in a good way. We won't be insulted if you should feel this way, as we are eccentric to the core. Stoic to a fault, but eccentric because it feels right. It has always felt good and wholesome, and has been honed through years as more of a virtue, than a drag on success. We have our critics but who doesn't? We would never try to sell you on the merits of becoming a dealer of old stuff, as a profession, because it has been a precarious journey thus far, with pitfalls that might have even thwarted Indiana Jones. It is a relationship with history that must, in terms of commitment, be entered upon with eyes wide open, and a marriage-like relationship, that has its profound good times and bad. But passion carries forward none the less.
     The biography, dating back to my own early years in the antique trade, has been on the proverbial back burner for at least a decade. Now that Andrew and Robert have passed their first dozen years in this business pursuit (at home and in our present shop), and wish to continue into the future, it seemed like a good time to hammer it all out, if only for our benefit. In order that we might, when time allows, re-educate ourselves about the circumstances that lead up to our family's rather bold and unrestrained foray into the antique and collectable profession. To read-up on how and why we got from "there", our origin in this business, to "here" the present tense, in the quest for a meaningful existence. And yes, to make a wee profit as thin, at times, as it was, in the beginning.
    Our sons Andrew, and Robert, and their "Curries' Music" enterprise, situated so nostalgically, and comfortably, in the former digs of the historic Muskoka Theatre, on Muskoka Road, here in Gravenhurst, have completed their first full decade in the retail trade in this location. And on July 1st of this year, 2017, will herald their 11th anniversary. But for them, it started several years earlier, when Andrew launched his side of the business from our Gravenhurst home, offering guitar lessons and some used stringed instruments with sundry other accessories. But both Andrew and Robert had been working their way up in the local music community, and were no strangers to concerts and variety shows at the Gravenhurst Opera House, as part of events sponsored by Gravenhurst High School, where both boys attended and later graduated. Both lads entered the business world, in the field of vintage music and entertainment, only months after their respective graduations, investing back in their hometown. But truthfully, their beginning in the music industry, especially in the area of vintage instruments, can easily be traced back to their roots. They were the offspring of two hard core antique collectors and dealers, who took them routinely on antique hunts around the region every weekend of their young lives. I would carry one or the other in a "snuggly" apparatus, strapped to my stomach, in order to transport them through antique shops and malls.
      They were brought up in a house full of old stuff, and as Suzanne and I worked as operational managers at Woodchester Villa and Museum, in Bracebridge, and then for the Crozier Foundation, curating the Bracebridge Sports Hall of Fame, the boys didn't have much of a chance to see or experience anything other than history and heritage in all its glory. Daily play, for the most part, was a contempory venture, with the exception that they had a large collection of vintage items, especially Dinky Toys, vintage Hot Wheels (cars), and old game boards. They didn't seem to mind. Of course, we never asked them either.
    To make it more interesting, and atmospheric in our household, Suzanne and I were both active regional historians during these years, (still, to this day) and we produced mountains of history-related editorial material for a variety of local publications. To recognize the turn of the new century, back in 2000, we wrote and published five small regional texts, including the biography of my book collecting mentor, Dave Brown, whose name will appear often as this biography advances. If our sons appear a little old for their age, we may have contributed to this characteristic.

     It might seem an act of considerable narcissism, pomposity and arrogance, to write such a biography, when we have no major accomplishments and awards to validate and warrant such an overly intimate text. Or to expect others to find even small morsels of intrigue and adventure, in what, by its very nature, will seem unremarkable when compared to others; biographies possessing sordid confessionals, accounts of scandal, sex, violence, with, of course, latent remorse. We have no scandal to offer our readers, and certainly no remorse about what we have done in this business thus far, or are likely to do in the near, or even distant future. You never know. But if you know my writing style from past immersion, on this site, or in the publications I have worked for, past and present, and of course, my penchant for unique story-telling, I guarantee this text will have its high impact moments, if only to raise a laugh at our expense.
     But here's the thing. After more than forty years in the antique trade, in one form or another, I had a definitive moment with son Robert yesterday, that seemed like the perfect place to begin this biography. If nothing else, it proves my assertion, that I love being involved in both the heritage and entertainment businesses, and cherish my modern-day position, working as both a picker for Suzanne, for her side of the antique shop, and for Andrew and Robert, doing odd jobs lodging here in their incredibly inspirational music studio. Including work on this manuscript. Yesterday afternoon, Robert turned to me in a panic, and asked, "Dad, do you have your glue stick handy?" Handing me, at the same time, a record-cover that had come unglued, on one side, needing an urgent repair. The vintage record, in question, would have fallen-out of the cover unless it was repaired, and thus, couldn't be put up for sale in the shop. Point of all this, is that I was delighted by the request, and have repaired hundreds of books and record covers as part of my function as a senior member of the family business team, who craftfully knows how to wield a glue stick and eraser. It might seem like a come-down for a veteran antique dealer, but believe me, I consider it an honor to work alongside these fine folks, who have taken an idea, a business plan, and a lot of gathered experience, and turned it all into a pleasing, rewarding enterprise. But yet, we are still a million dollars shy of being millionaires. We're okay with this, as we enjoy or daily work, which admittedly, seems more recreational than it probably should.
     The writer of this lengthy tome is forever humble in this regard, and everso pleased to be a part, however small, of this legacy. I hope this enthusiasm and pride reads-through our story, because this, most of all, is what we wish to share. Wouldn't it be great if we all loved to go to work each day, such that we wished to extend it into the after-hours and on free weekends. This, in reality, is our story.
     At a few minutes to ten o'clock this morning, a few days after Boxing Day, with the Christmas spirit still whirling about the shop and warming our hearts, a visitor to our place of business, began pulling at the still-locked front door. Under normal circumstances we will open the door despite the fact we have an entrance clogged with the items we will eventually lift outside that specific day. We have always done this as a courtesy, and we kind of expect the same consideration, on days, for whatever reason, we find ourselves behind our time. This, by the way, is the privilege of owning your own business, and enjoying the whole affair of being an entrepreneur, and we make no apology for a five to ten minute delay opening the door. We are a family business and sometimes families have issues to sort, and pets, two lovely little dogs, to rein-in, before we can get on with the next most important project of any given day.
     So this morning, after the eager-beaver customer tugged at the door, a second and third time, (as if once wasn't enough) getting our attention most definitely, we also didn't miss the nasty comment he made, upon being temporarily thwarted from shop entry. He suggested to his partner, standing to the side, loud enough for us to hear through the closed door, that it was most likely the shop would never open again. Thus, because we weren't open at the moment he desired entry, our longstanding successful main street shop would be closed forever. Well sir, he and his partner didn't get early entry that's for sure, and so far, after a half hour being open, they've never showed up to see if our shop was truly "closed forever." If he had showed-up and made a comment about our tardiness, within earshot of this writer, he would have been forced to listen to one of my often repeated diatribes, about the true benefits and privilege of free enterprise and democracy, and that in case he hadn't noticed it, our operation is not affiliated with government, or government services.
    We represent the good graces and pleasantness of vintage music, antiques and collectables, and we are about as relaxed in this pursuit as we can get, without sitting in arm chairs listening to good music with our mates; and still keep our customers content with the same kind of due diligence we've been providing for well more than a decade. We have a loyal following after all these years, so this being relaxed-thing, seems to have found enough kindred spirits to keep us happily in business. We have no plan to change our philosophy in this regard, and as this is a happy place for all who work and attend here in one fashion or another, we want our visitors to share the experience of goodwill both socially and culturally. Of course, some folks want us to do handstands and juggle flaming batons, and we inform them as gently as we can, that they should seek another shop where those standards are upheld and on display.
     We had another less than kind customer, inform us that our shop smelled like cat-pee, and was worried that the record he was about to buy was going to carry the odour home with him. Needless to say, son Robert's chin hit his chest, being so shocked at the ignorance of the fellow in front, he couldn't muster a response for some time. Not wishing you see, to be rude in response, he suggested that the customer shouldn't buy the record if he was worried about this, and in the meantime, there were more unflattering comments of the same nature, equally hurtful to a family with high standards as far as cleanliness. There are admittedly smells in an old building and with vintage ware that will at time seems musty, but as owners of four cats, with a history of housing felines, believe me, we know the difference between must and cat urine. We could only suggest that the fellow and his partner that day refrain from entering a shop they found so offensive. They're certainly entitled to exercise this privilege. We could only hope the fellow felt better about venting this opinion, and in the process insulting us. Son Robert is a diplomat and a pacifist, and would never have retaliated with any sharp retort, unless it had become threatening. We've had this happen as well, and we are quick to move these unhappy folks to the exit, suggesting they never ever return. Is this bad business practice? Isn't the customer always right? We don't subscribe to this opinion, and once again this is the privilege of business ownership in a democracy.
     I do love it though, when a disgruntled customer, hopped-up on self-righteousness, asks one of us Curries to point out the business manager, in order to lodge a complaint. Andrew will point to me, Suzanne or Robert, and they will point back at the other, in order to have a little fun at the same time as we're about to be reprimanded. "But which one is the owner," they ask. If the four of us are standing together, we point at each other as being the big cheese. This is usually enough to cause the customer to defer and disembark, and although this may violate some business protocols, on the other side of the coin, diffuses a situation that could get ugly. We never mind admitting our faults but we won't take crap that we don't deserve, simply on the basis that some customers like to assign blame for not getting their idea of royal treatment.
     This is, strangely enough, the beginning of what hopefully, will be an attempt in rough, of writing-out a long promised biography and business overview, covering my start in the antique profession and our sons' foray into the business world selling vintage musical instruments and collectables. I started writing this out ten years ago, shortly after Andrew and Robert began their retail business in the former Muskoka Theatre building, on Gravenhurst main street, opposite the historic Opera House and former Carnegie Library. Suzanne, as the expert researcher she is, was able to retrieve these old files that detail how it all began for Andrew and Rob more than a decade ago, and by what philosophy the business plan was based. Simply stated, it was about developing a truly home town business, loyal to the local population, as offered-up by two Muskoka-born businessmen wishing to invest in the area they grew-up and went to school. But as we instilled in them at a young age, through the rigors and joy of running our family antique business, they had to marry their enterprise in all ways and forms, in order to run it with the kind of passion that over-rides the shortfalls of operating a store in a region known for its seasonal economy. If they loved their work, their work place, and their role in servicing the needs of local and visiting musicians, then they would have enough passion to push through the downturns of earnings, and allow lifestyle to unfold with all its resident benefits. More than enough by the way to trump the disadvantages and shortfalls that we tutored them about, having had decades of experience ourselves on how to cope with the summer season boom, and the shoulder-season blues. This was accomplished a long time ago, and I defy anyone who knows us, or doesn't, to find any less passion for our business, as a result of compromises and adjustments we've had to made in order to survive and, I dare say, thrive in business.
     The antique and collectable profession isn't an easy one to marry, and adopt as a lifestyle. If however, you are of this historically minded ilk, and have a genuine interest in how past generations lived, worked and entertained themselves, becoming a dealer of these relics is a more comfortable fit. What I see today in the antique community, are more folks joining the profession who are doing so because of the investment potentials, and for speculation purposes only, which seldom if ever works to the desired end result. You really do have to walk the walk, as they say, and immerse into the profession as if wearing a comfortable pair of pants and jacket, or the most comforting pair of shoes you've ever possessed. I have never separated from my relationship with history or antiques since I opened my first shop in Bracebridge, back in the fall of 1977. But I must have known what lay ahead, because in earnest, I began scrounging for interesting collectables from about six years of age, after my mother Merle released me to the stewardship of our Burlington neighborhood, where "garbage day" was a picker's paradise, and few seemed too worried I would hurt myself treasure hunting garbage can to can. It may not seem to some readers, that this is a flattering place to start our biography and present business overview, but to omit this reference, would be to sadly eliminate the "seeding part" of my own business history, and in turn, corrupting the rest of the story up to and including the present. It may seem a little repetitive at times, and this is due to the fact I am writing these editorial pieces for a daily blog and facebook posting, requiring a little updating and revisitation to maintain continuity. The intention is to eventually publish this material in book form, to satisfy our customers' interest in buying a copy mostly for the music component, a credit of course, to the success of Andrew and Robert to satisfy the needs of their clients in the entertainment business. It may take a year but it will be done, but you will be able to read it first and for free over the next year, if you stick with this online site.
     As a family, we know that the antique and collectable business, whether in the field of Canadiana, or music heritage, is full of resident enchantments, coincidences, assorted strange events, encounters and deja-vu moments that defy logical explanation. It is loaded with situations some would call paranormal, and supernatural, and a little haunted at times just for good measure. This is part of the business of buying and selling old stuff, that once belonged to others, dating back generations and even centuries, that adds color and dimension to our enterprise that is hard to explain; but often requiring not explanation, but rather joyful acceptance on our part, as being the very reason we have joined and stayed with this profession for all these glorious and exciting years.

     To commence this biographical text, tomorrow, we decided, during a family meeting this morning, to re-publish a story I wrote just over a year ago, about our good friend, Canadian actor, James Carroll, best known for his characterization of Max Sutton, on the historical series, "Wind at My Back," which aired on CBC in the late 1990's. His connection with our family, however brief, was profound and life-changing, especially in the music and entertainment component of our business. A chance meeting with this Huntsville radio host, last Christmas season, and a subsequent in-studio performance, at Hunter's Bay Radio, by Bet Smith and the Currie Brothers, marked a huge change in attitude for all of us involved on that day, and for the entire year following. James Carroll would lose his fight with cancer a few months later, but what we had been blessed with, in that short time, was an enlightenment we would have woefully missed without his kind mentorship and encouragement. I wrote numerous editorial pieces during this time, but one set the stage for a more intimate relationship that made all the difference to our relationship with the actor / broadcaster. Every evening since Christmas, we have been watching episodes of the box set of "Wind At My Back," and feeling warm inside our introduction to the show and James Carroll, happened at such an important point in our lives. Join us again tomorrow for a resumption of this story.