I’m sure that auction night will become routine for me eventually, but I doubt that will happen any time soon. Strangely, just when I’ve discovered the joy of auctions, so has the rest of America. Secondhand buying and selling is getting a lot of hype right now. The TV is swamped with shows like American Picker, that auction one that takes place in Atlanta, Storage Wars, those pawn shop guys. The common thread in all of these is the thrill of uncertainty: you never know you’ll find on any given day.
First: there was no need to be this bundled up; it was balmy out. But last week my feet were so cold I had to hold them over the heat vents in the van all the way back to thaw them out, so I went big just in case.
After a quick tire pressure check, we’re off! On the way, we stopped by a house with a sign out front and made arrangements to pick up 20
gallons POUNDS of honey later this week. Guess what we’re making?
And on the subject of van maintenance, Medb has lost her powers of stereo sound production. The lights are on, but no one’s home in the CD player, radio, or speakers. Awkward silences aside, the worst thing is that now there’s no van clock. But behold:
I have heard tell of this Yankee ingenuity. The new van clock is a solar powered watch. Many years ago, in a fit of ingenuity, K tried to recharge it by hanging it over a light bulb and melted the plastic into a bubble.
Apparently this “map” was used by primitive people to plot their route before the advent of GPS technology. Fortunately, forays into various esoteric fields of study have left me well-equipped to interpret its mysterious symbols and lines.
With the help of this ancient relic we reached the Auction Barn, which was packed. Must be the nice weather we’re having. Seriously, you could see the ground! Last week’s snowmobile playground is this week’s muddy cornfield! That is how K learned that his boots are no longer waterproof.
After the journey into the wilds of Niagara County, I was famished. Luckily the concession stand was open. No meatloaf sandwiches in sight, but I did manage to snag the last hot dog!
If you want to get a few weird looks, try pulling out a DSLR and shooting a picture of your hot dog in the Auction Barn.
By the way, I think instead of saying “as American as apple pie,” I’m going to start saying “as American as a hot dog on a styrofoam plate in an Auction Barn,” because COME ON.
After a few hours of bidding and biding our time, we came away with a pretty good haul. There was less furniture on the block this week, but we ended up with a few decent pieces and, – wow! would you look at that oil painting!
YEAH. I won that, got so excited, and the crowd went wild. By “won” I mean that no one else bid. I really love ugly paintings. Not that this portrait is ugly… I mean yes, it’s ugly. But it has charm. Ooh, do you think it’ll sell better if I give her a mustache?
The other big win of the night as far as style is concerned is this table:
The picture does not do justice to how flashy this little thing is. It’s shiny, it sparkles, it’s colorful, it’s literally trippy. The cool thing about selling furniture like this is that people buy it because they love it. There’s no in between with something that makes that strong of a statement.
What is that statement? I have no idea.
Also, what is this? K is going to make it into a hanging planter, but we have no clue what its original intended use was. You can’t really get a candle or Sterno can in the bottom part. The lots can be a little random at this auction; you never know what you’re going to get in the bottom of the box. So you bid on a cherry stoner and they’ve also thrown in a box of sewing notions and some old Popular Mechanics magazines. I love the element of surprise.
And finally, I now have the fanciest wastebasket in the house.
We’ll be hitting more auctions tonight and tomorrow night. I’m excited. Obviously.