Since we are moving I am a bit at loose ends. Remember how my friend died recently and messily? Well the guy who was doing the biological cleanup of his, uh, remains, and I got to talking. He does cleanouts for hoarders as well as cleaning up bodies and just won a bid on cleaning out a 3story place chock full of about 1000 boxes of stuff - but he does not know collectibles.. Some of the boxes are full of wonderful things. Some are literally full of other boxes. Some are nearly empty except for about a dozen Solo cups (a plastic disposable cup that fits into a non disposable plastic cup holder - way before your time, but
@Singlemalt can back me up).
Ok, so the place is full of the detritus of some people's lives. Quite a few people really as these people bought up other people's shit. Well, anyway.... The place was full of stuff. Like if you ever read a comic book in the 1960s or 70s you would know that sending $2.99 to a New Jersey address would result in a Civil War play set containing 8 dragoons, 4 cannon, 6 mounted cavalry, etc.. Well this guy saved every one of them and now he is old. So it has become my temporary job to sell them. Today I sat with a dealer and sorted 40+ boxes of depression glass. I spent the last week becoming an instant expert on depression glass (all without narcotics btw which is why I am so disappointed with
@mollymcgrammar ). Now my first floor is an orgy of boxes, bubble wrap and about 300 pounds of depression glass that nobody wants.
The conclusion of the glassware means that I have to turn my attention to a truly scandalous number of hoarded ornaments, color wheels, plastic santas, vintage reindeer, and unsettling goddamn elves. Ten years ago, this shit was landfill. But now it is going to be one of the biggest profit centers in the joint. I am somewhat surprised by this.
It is all very, very strange. I myself am a recovering collector of stuffs, but have lost track of the ever-shifting market since. To see Christmas become so hyper-popular for this vintage shit (white, flocked fake trees, etc) is both a repulsion and a sentimental flashback. It would be a bit difficult to convey the impact to you of seeing things that you have not seen or remember since you were about five years old - and then having it happen about 1000 times in three weeks. I feel like a coked-up Marcel Proust in a corn silo of madeleines (Google "rememberance of things past" mcgrammar).
Very very strange... But I yoinked a giant set of wooden alphabet blocks in which the "Z" is represented by a zeppelin (Graf, not Led) for the boy. Didja know that instant lead tests are waaaay more toxic than lead?