Collecting is a hobby in which the thrill of the hunt is hoped to be rewarded with a trophy, for the wall or otherwise. But unlike big game hunters, we don’t always have a trail to follow — or even know what it is we are looking for. We simply stumble out of (or into) the brush, hoping “it” will be there, and that we will be clever enough, lucky enough, to be able to take it home.

Even when we have a list (and remember to carry it on our person so that the usual trip to the grocery store becomes a serendipitous stop at a yard sale), we may not be any further ahead in getting volumes of The Story Of Civilization. In fact, I personally think carrying that slip of paper (or even retaining the volume numbers) puts a jinx on the whole thing.

Toss out that slip, dismiss the numbers from your mind, and guess what you’ll find at the next sale — that’s right, 3 or 4 random volumes in the series. Then, of course, you have to sweat out not only the conditions of the books, if the price is fair or not, but if any of the volumes are the ones you need. If the price is right you can always sell the doubles (upgrading copies, if possible) easily enough later — you’ll just have to consider the sardonically raised brow of your spouse as part of the price of adding to (or trying to add to) your collection.

You see, The Story of Civilization series by Will (and Ariel) Durant is one of my great collecting passions. It’s not only the classic story of a collector on the hunt, but connects to many other issues in collecting.

Years ago, nearly two decades ago, I ran into the entire set of books — first editions in glorious conditions — at a used bookstore. I coveted those books, daring to touch them tenderly, but was unable to pay the $150 asking price. That wasn’t only, as hubby and I say, “A lot of money back now,” but nearly inconceivable to a twenty-something single parent — it was like the kind of money to buy a house or something! But for months I would window shop the books, wistfully (stalkerishly) checking to see if they were still there… Until one day there weren’t.

Ever since I’ve slowly been collecting the volumes, one at time, three at a time, until now, today, I have seven of the eleven. (I am in need of volumes I, III, VII, XI — and V really should be upgraded as the dust jacket is faded.)

At times I’ve wondered if I’d have been better off paying the $150. Not that I had it, mind you. But I wonder if I’ll ever get close to an entire set, and such lovely copies… But then I remind myself that I am, in fact, ahead of the game.

At $150 for all eleven books, I’m way ahead financially; I’ve never paid more than $6 per book. And I’m ahead in other ways — like the thrill of hoping every time I head out hunting that today is the day. But if I look for them, or remember the volume numbers, I won’t find them. I must stumble into them, discover them by accident.

I think that’s how most collectors, at least of vintage items, feel. We head out each time hoping, but not knowing; almost afraid to think too much about what we desire for fear that jinxes our mission, but quietly searching for a glimpse of them just the same. Like those hallucinatory pink elephants, they are always around us, talking to us…

So we head out excited to discover just whatever it is that we will find that day. Even if that day happens to be more used baby clothes and sports equipment than we care to look at. For somewhere, in a box hidden beneath that table of worn toddler outfits, there just might be what we’ve been looking for.

It could be the missing volumes in The Story of Civilization. Or it could be some new thing to discover.

This weekend I did not find any affordable copies of Will Durant’s books, but I did find this pink elephant.

A huge vintage pink elephant, nine inches tall.

We were already at the check out counter with arm loads of other goodies when we spotted him. He was “behind the counter expensive”, if you get my meaning; but still too impressive to ignore. So I had the clerk stop ringing up our sale and bring him over to look at.

He’s the Jolly Jumbo Elephant Squeeze-Me Toy with Movable Head, by The Sun Rubber Company, dated 1961. He was once, according to the original packaging, safe & sanitary; but now, older than me & found a thrift store, he’s likely a bit too-used to be called either.

I don’t know much about The Sun Rubber Company (other than they were in Barberton, Ohio, from 1923 to 1974 and made rubber toys and dolls). And I don’t collect elephants (yet). But something about his cute face, unusually large size, and glass roller-ball feet, made him special & spiffy enough to take home.

Temporarily.

You see, I can’t keep everything I find. So I’ll be selling this pink elephant.

While many find the practice of an antiques and collectibles dealer abhorrent, I find dealers to be as kind to old things as an animal rescue worker is to animals — we recognize something worthy of salvaging, and we take care of it until the right owner comes along. We dealers see the “pink elephants” that haunt the hunts of collectors, and we keep them safe until the obsessed right collector comes along.

Sure, I make some money dealing in the pink elephants of others; but then those profits fund pink elephant hunts of my own.

So maybe this literal pink elephant will finance my figurative pink elephant and I’ll finally be able to afford the complete set of The Story Of Civilization. Should I be lucky to stumble into them in the brush…

Maybe, somewhere, right now, a dealer has set aside those books just for me. And once I buy them, that dealer will be off in pursuit of his or her own pink elephant.

Once that dealer and I each find our pink elephants, we’ll be off hunting for other elusive objects — new (to us) pink elephants. And as we hunt, we’ll spot the pink elephants of others… Each pink elephant holding another pink elephant’s tail in its trunk.

May the circle be unbroken.

In case you missed the photo links:

* Al Falfa in Pink Elephants, 1937 film at ASIFA

* Pink elephants & other strange frosting concoctions

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Article Tags: antiques and collectibles, books, collecting, collectors, dealers, pink elephants, retro, thrift store finds, vintage

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This entry was posted on Monday, August 25th, 2008 at 3:40 am and is filed under collecting fyi, flea market finds. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.