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As collectors, we’ll often have the need to sell stuff just to make room for even better stuff. It’s just a fact of acquisition.

After an especially troublesome incident last year in which a $500 item arrived broken in Germany, and my PayPal account was decimated by an overzealous and anxious collector, I vowed to never, ever sell overseas again. In fact, I spent half a year just avoiding eBay entirely after that, as if I were deeply, emotionally wounded. eBay had crippled themselves by changing too many rules too rapidly, and I always came out on the short end of the deal when it came to dealing with entitled buyers overseas. I understand that there is tension when there is money at stake, but my enormous feedback rating should be more than enough to quell any suspicions of my intent. I just want to sell crap to make room for more robots and Batman, guys.

I began to include a statement in all of my auctions which states that I do not ship internationally. Certain countries don’t have postal services that can be relied on, and I am unwilling to take the financial brunt of this ineptitude. Of course, I get questions during just about every auction I list asking if I’ll ship to Bulgravia or to New Porkinghamshire, and like a fool, I usually say yes. At best, I’ll attract one extra bidder to amp up the final price of my item a little more, and at worst, I’ll have to fill out complicated customs forms and swallow a whole lot of annoyance from a system that’s practically broken when it comes to protecting the seller against international fraud – and there’s a lot of it. Somewhere over the vast ocean between here and everywhere else is this force that just screws everything up.

The most telling trait of a person who will be an issue is that they will send multiple e-mails in rapid succession, all asking tiny questions about issues that the auction’s description has already answered, or if the item is really, truly as you described it. Really? There’s no dust? Has it ever been near someone named Lloyd? I’m sure you kicked it after you took that photograph, so don’t lie to me. It’s these neuroses that bleed into just about everything they do. During my most recent encounter, I sold a $100 set of action figures to a guy in China with a penchant for asking lots of stupid questions.

After the auction closed, he gave me his address – but completely in Chinese characters. Of course, these are useless when filling out the extensive US customs form, and the package would never make it out of the states in one piece. So, I asked for his address in English.

Because of a language barrier, the buyer transposed the number of his building with the number of his room. So, three weeks later, when the package did not arrive, I tracked it to find that his local post had attempted to deliver it to a building that did not exist, based on the instructions that he gave me. This is when he suddenly started a PayPal claim against me. For shipping to an incorrect address. That he gave me.

Anyone who has been through one of these ‘claims’ knows that they are a complete pain. PayPal immediately puts the disputed amount of money ‘on hold’, and drains it from your account. If you do not have enough money, they leave you with a negative balance. This also means that if you intend on purchasing anything via PayPal, you will need to pay for the item in full, plus your negative balance if you want a transaction to go through at all. And, of course, in a fashion that matches the type of luck that I have, this all arose only moments before a very important, limited pre-order went up which I had been awaiting for two weeks, and could only be purchased via PayPal.

It is worth noting that the Post Office is currently trying to digitize as much of the mailing process as they possibly can, and all customs forms should now be filled out online. This avoids a good deal of hassle and the possible ambiguity of information, but the USPS website is also broken about half of the time which I attempt to use it, with sections randomly just not working, and at least a dozen times when my zip code spontaneously vanished from this mortal plane. My town might feel like that, and now I had proof. It was during one of these frequent and mysterious outages that this package needed to be sent, which did not help any. And don’t try clicking on ‘Live Chat Help’ at the USPS website either – it’s basically a non-functional image that leads nowhere. Very funny, Post Office.

While I’m not saying that you should never ship anything internationally, be careful of those people who ask a ton of questions, and if you have any doubt, just say no. Once your collectibles leave the relatively regimented US Postal Service, there is no guarantee for their safety.

After all of this, the buyer continued to ask questions about resolving the issue of the missing items, which he still wants, and are now being sent back to me, apparently. My answer?

“You stated a PayPal claim. Let them deal with it, moron.”

It has to be obvious to all who have read my articles on Collectors’ Quest, I love to collect and display our antiques, many times using them in odd ways to achieve a desired look or function. I also like to report on the shops we find on our hunting trips, the ones I think you might enjoy visiting. Along the way we also purchase antiques and collectibles to sell, and Wifey has quite a good business with internet sales of treasures she offers. But over the many years and many highway miles we have traveled in pursuit of the next great find, lots of odd things have come our way and wound up in our storage shed. Of the really weird collectibles, I have to admit most are my purchases.

Some of these were going to be something some day. That’s how I wind up with lots of lamp parts, metal brackets, hinges, decorative metal grates, parts from curtain rods and door handles of every known configuration. Wifey finds these things sellable, but I’m always sure I’ll be needing extra drawer pulls or lamp finials or keys to unlock an item I might own in the future.

But the big question, in the parlance of a older TV generation, “THE $64,000 Question.” “Where did that thing come from and how much do YOU pay.” Naturally it’s always my purchase and I paid too much, until it sells, when she claims that she found it for almost nothing.

So, let’s take a peek in the storage shed to see what lurks in the back corners, that no one remembers where it came from or when it was bought, and I still must have paid too much for it. If you don’t recognize this grouping, I can understand, these came from a telephone switchboard, used to pull the plug back into the board when the plug was pulled. No idea why we have them or what I could use them for, and I can’t see anyone else buying them.

This plug is cast iron, and painted bronze. The plug taper is cast, so I’m not sure it could actually plug anything.

Made by and signed Wilton, Mount Joy Pa. The aluminum donkey on a stand, remains a mystery. It’s the wrong shape for a book end, and too light for a paper weight.

The enameled #144, well, it’s not my age nor our house number, so I must ask what did we buy it for?

When did we get that? Wifey asked when I pulled out this pin back badge from the Nocturnal Adoration Society. I had to look it up on the net to prove to myself that it’s a religious group and not a night life lover’s organization.

I’m sure you can guess the origin of the green porcelain enamel handle, yes it is a stove handle and some day I’ll find a drawer to stick it on. But do you recognize the other handle? It’s solid brass. My guess is its from a large safe door. If Wifey doesn’t sell it, I’ll probably sell it for the scrap metal price.

You’ll want to blame me for most of these items, but I’m not alone in picking up junk metal with the hope I can find a use for it or Wifey can make a buck selling it. With magnet in hand, she is the first one to head to a basement at an estate sale, or climb under a table to scrounge through boxes of metal objects at a flea market.

Look for us on your hunting trips, we are easy to spot. Magnet and magnifying glass in had, we argue over each purchase, beg the seller for a better price, and leave with bags full of stuff no one else would buy.

I’ve never been a fan of Mickey Mouse. I’ve actually never felt too much of an affinity for any Disney character, aside from a deep sympathy for Donald Duck’s impossible bad luck. Disney, like Star Wars, has always been very protective over their properties and usually unwilling to allow any kind of non-canonical interpretations of their characters. However, also like Star Wars, Disney has recently relented in the unstoppable face of the DIY movement and allowed a variety of interesting interpretations of their most famous property.

I first started noticing these interpretations with this ‘Runaway Brain’ Mickey Mouse, which was probably the first time that I’d seen Mickey portrayed in a manner that wasn’t pristine and heroic, and ultimately, saccharine. I liked it, even if it is canonical and fits into an actual cartoon.

Of course there are the obligatory Mickey Mouse statues that dress him up as alternate Disney characters, like TRON, Jack Sparrow or Jack Skellington – a whole bunch of Disney things that ultimately feed right back into the juggernaut of the Disney machine – but Disney has started to stretch their horizons beyond obvious interpretations.

Most notable for me is this ‘Bloc 28 Mickey’ from Suiko and MINDStyle Toys, which is a fairly radical and incredible re-imagining of the Mickey character. Because he’s so culturally iconic, he only requires minimal key visual elements in any image to reflect the fact that you’re looking at Mickey Mouse. In this case, the artist has completely done away with the bulbous pair of ears and the distinctive pants and buttons – but the color recognizability is still there. That’s a testament to the power of an icon. This particular piece is limited to 500 pieces and costs $125, standing at a full foot tall.

Even more bizarre is this piece by MINDStyle and Tenga, which only retains the signature spherical pants and the recognizable buttons, but includes some completely non-Mickey wings, blue gloves, and general surrealist weirdness. Disney is still comfortable calling it ‘Mickey’, so kudos to Disney for embracing the piece. They did, after all, work with Salvador Dali once.

Also released is this Span Of Sunset and Bloc 28 piece, which realizes Mickey as some kind of vector-y, angular creature that fell out of a Max Headroom nightmare.

There’s also this unlikely Mickey Mouse / Transformers crossover from Tomy, for what it’s worth.

A little over a year ago, designers BAPE released this $223 designer Minnie doll, which is apparently very special due to the fact that it is made in a grey camo pattern. While some designer stuff just seems like cheap regurgitation of a simplistic, artificial theme to me, I still love that distorted, twisted up Mickey from Suiko.

While this is by no means a comprehensive list of the strange Mickeys that are now, and will be, available, it’s a fairly awesome bridge between ‘art’ and the world of Disney, which is working hard to shed its pristine, kid-centric image – enough to get me interested.

This past weekend we set up at a flea market. It’s an indoor one, held about three times a year. We’ve gone to it for about ten years but only set up a booth twice. At the table next to us was a gent I’d never seen before (we often see the same folks at these events.) He had sort of an Indiana Jones thing going; a tan ‘pith hat’, camouflage shirt and sunglasses. Yes, he wore them all day long. He had an interesting mix of musical instruments for sale, most in need of repair, and he strummed a mandolin, until it sold, then played some type of wooden flute.

Our neighbor also had a number of books for sale, most of them newer and he had read them all. When a prospective buyer picked one up, he’d tell them all about it, and whet their appetite to read it for themselves. He also had videos, mostly the older ones, and these, too, he’d talk about when there was any interest. It was fun to listen to him, not only the music, but his stories of places he had traveled to. He had items he had recently ‘picked up in Nepal’, or found while in Africa. He would incorporate his tales into the items and many of the books were from faraway places, and of course, he’d seen them all first hand. I do not know if any of his stories were true, but the passer-bys were drawn in and listened intently. They often purchased items and I admit he was quite a salesman.

At the end of the day, he was giving the records away “two for a buck” and I strolled over. Imagine my surprise when I found one called “High Barbaree” which offered “rocking rollicking songs of the sea in Hi-Fi.” The cover art alone was worth it, showing a red scarfed scalawag, with almost a snarl on his face. He is wearing a patch on one eye, the expected gold earring, sporting a scruffy beard and leather shoulder treatment, perhaps from a satchel that is filled with gold doubloons.

It was recorded in England and the songs include Blow the Man Down, Spanish Ladies, What Shall we Do with a Drunken Sailor, The Chinese Bumboat Man, A Life on the Ocean Wave, When Johnny Comes Down to Hilo, Heart of Oak, and of course, High Barbaree!

I was especially excited because several of my grandchildren are crazy about pirates. This may be due in part to the fabulous Johnny Depp movies, but also a trip to Florida where they met up with Quartermaster Moe, who offered them many tales of the sea from years gone by.

They also appreciate old records, even though many kids their ages would only want CD’s or Blue Rays. They play records with their mom and seem to enjoy the old music, so finding one with pirate songs should be a hoot!

I have not had the chance to play it yet, but plan to do so when the family is in town. I am sure I’ll get my 50 cents worth of enjoyment. If not, I’ll try to sell it for $2.00, which would be approx. a “buck an ear” for the pirate’s cover picture. (Sorry, I should be pun-ished.”)

Wes Cowan, Antique Week

In the January 11, 2010 issue of Antique Week, Wes Cowan discusses how “2010 will be a great year to buy antiques for the home,” for collectors who like to ‘buy low.’

While insisting he’s “bullish on the business” of antiques, Cowan says that now’s the time to buy antiques for your home because prices are low and “dealers are eager to make a sale.” He credits (if we can use that word) the low prices to three factors, “the triple play of economic woes, eBay, and demographics.”

I probably don’t need to comment on the economy. And Cowan’s thoughts on the subject of eBay affecting supply and demand (you can click the scans to read them) echo my own. But the matter of demographics is an interesting one.

When we met Wes, he accurately and kindly noted that our kids were weird — for being collectors, that is. So I’ve heard Wes’ thoughts and discussed issue with him; but his column in Antique Week he puts it it more succinctly than I ever could:

Demographics continue to play another major role in the diminishing value of many antiques. If you’re a collector who visits shows and auctions, you already know that the average age of most antique collectors continues to climb. There simply aren’t enough young folks in the market.

I’ve written before on the values of collecting, how we’ve bonded with our children over games, vintage vinyl, books, and shows like History Detectives. In this economy, it also makes sense to teach children the values of money, of recycling and using previously used things, of decision making, and how to be good consumers; but it also makes sense to encourage and allow children to enjoy the hobby of collecting so that there’s younger people looking for older stuff.

Children aren’t just our future, they will be the guardians of our past; they have to start learning to value it now.

So take them out to the auction, the flea market, to antique shops, etc. and let them help you snatch-up the bargains. (And tell the dealers that Wes Cowan and Deanna Dahlsad sent you!)

All scans from AntiqueWeek, Vol. 42, Issue No. 2112.

Wes Cowan Article, Part Two