July 8, 2014--Antiques
It's not a comforting thing to find that everything in an antique shop looks familiar.
Not familiar because you were in the shop previously, but because half the things on sale look as if they came from your boyhood home.
"Look," I said, "There's a breakfast room table and chairs just like my mother's. Stainless steel and Formica with blue vinyl seats. And they're asking $250 for it. Can you imagine."
And on the other side of the shop--"A set of the same kind of Lionel electric trains I had as a kid. I'll bet the locomotive emits smoke just like mine. Did you notice that old baseball glove? The one with the splayed fingers, the way they were made before they added webbing between the thumb and pointer finger. That made balls much easier to catch though I did like my old Duke Snider model. Forget baseball cards. They've been collectables for years now. Some, probably ones like those I threw out, go for thousands."
"Over there," I pointed, "a chemistry set just like mine. There were instructions about how to compound things but my friends and I only wanted to cause explosions. Since some of us were successful and injured ourselves they stopped making and selling them."
I drifted into another room. "My Aunt Tanna had a samovar like that one. Her parents brought it with them when they fled from Russia. I loved it when I was a kid. I spent endless hours taking it apart and putting it back together. I once filled it with water and drained the tank through the old spigot. I tasted it hoping it would be like being in Russia. It just tasted metallic. Maybe that's the way tea tasted in Minsk. How much? it's expensive. Almost $600. But it's not as nice as Tanna's. Otherwise . . ."
"Check out that clock. The one affixed to a piece of marble with a brass horse to the right of it. I think everyone in my family had a horse clock. I listened to the Lone Ranger on the radio every afternoon and I loved Roy Rogers. So to me that horse was either Trigger or Silver."
"I know, I know. I shouldn't be thinking so much about the past. But antiques nowadays put me in that kind of mood. As I said, everything looks familiar. I can't pretend otherwise."
"What did you say? Yes, you're right. I too am an antique."
Not familiar because you were in the shop previously, but because half the things on sale look as if they came from your boyhood home.
"Look," I said, "There's a breakfast room table and chairs just like my mother's. Stainless steel and Formica with blue vinyl seats. And they're asking $250 for it. Can you imagine."
And on the other side of the shop--"A set of the same kind of Lionel electric trains I had as a kid. I'll bet the locomotive emits smoke just like mine. Did you notice that old baseball glove? The one with the splayed fingers, the way they were made before they added webbing between the thumb and pointer finger. That made balls much easier to catch though I did like my old Duke Snider model. Forget baseball cards. They've been collectables for years now. Some, probably ones like those I threw out, go for thousands."
"Over there," I pointed, "a chemistry set just like mine. There were instructions about how to compound things but my friends and I only wanted to cause explosions. Since some of us were successful and injured ourselves they stopped making and selling them."
I drifted into another room. "My Aunt Tanna had a samovar like that one. Her parents brought it with them when they fled from Russia. I loved it when I was a kid. I spent endless hours taking it apart and putting it back together. I once filled it with water and drained the tank through the old spigot. I tasted it hoping it would be like being in Russia. It just tasted metallic. Maybe that's the way tea tasted in Minsk. How much? it's expensive. Almost $600. But it's not as nice as Tanna's. Otherwise . . ."
"Check out that clock. The one affixed to a piece of marble with a brass horse to the right of it. I think everyone in my family had a horse clock. I listened to the Lone Ranger on the radio every afternoon and I loved Roy Rogers. So to me that horse was either Trigger or Silver."
"I know, I know. I shouldn't be thinking so much about the past. But antiques nowadays put me in that kind of mood. As I said, everything looks familiar. I can't pretend otherwise."
"What did you say? Yes, you're right. I too am an antique."
Labels: Aging, Antiques, Baseball, Childhood, Duke Snider, Immigrants, Old Time Radio, Roy Rogers, Russia, The Lone Ranger
posted by Steven Zwerling at
4:49 AM
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