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Showing posts with label true story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true story. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Everything I Learned, I Learned In An Antiques Store

Everything I learned, I learned in an antiques store. Not totally. I learned plenty of other things in other places I worked. But I’ve learned much working in an antiques store. Not only do the browsers and customers teach and share volumes—the actual antiques in the store tell their own stories too.

One story the antiques tell and teach is that the more time goes by—things stay pretty much the same. There is truly nothing much new under the sun.

We know that the generation that fought in WW II is considered the greatest generation—and what we are going through today in can’t compare totally to what that generation went through. But today I stumbled across an ad in a 1943 magazine that spoke to me, and taught me, that wars, battles, 
conflicts and politics change—but  basic human nature and deep feelings of most Americans, change only minimally.

The ad sponsored by Nash-Kelvinator—yes, the folks that made cars and refrigerators—might be a bit sentimental for today’s tastes. A bit dramatic. But I read between the lines and found the emotions in this ad to be timely.

The ad shows a gaunt American soldier, a prisoner of war in Japan. He is behind barbed wire and is clutching a letter from home as an armed guard looks on.

The American’s response to his letter from home is: “Reading behind the lines of your blessed letter, I feel again the warmth of your love, and your unshaken belief in our future together. Just to know there is still in the world such faith as yours is enough to keep me sane…”

The American soldier writes of his hopes that, as he and his other fellow captives look to the sky, that the Americans will deliver them from evil and bring them home again.



He goes on to write, “Home—where I want unchanged, just as I remember them now, all the things that I hold dear. The right of a man to think and speak his thoughts, the right of a man to live and worship as he wants, the right of a man to work and earn a just reward! Don’t ever let these be lost. Keep everything just as it is until I come back...back to American where no armed guard bars the door to liberty…where there will never be a barbed wire fence between a man and his opportunity to work and build and grow and make his life worth living—this war worth winning!”

Yes, going back over 70 years, or 300 years ago—even though our conflicts and wars have changed—the reasons why we fight (even on the home front) and in our hearts and minds, does not change. And what America was hundreds of years ago—and even decades ago, should not change because other outside forces want us to change.


And that’s what I learned in the antiques store today.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Who Says Collectibles Can't Be Funny? Satan Pig, A Sign Of The Apocalypse

The King of Impeccable Taste is a cool character. Not much rattles him. He can look a scary clown in the eye and not flinch. He can see a ratty voodoo doll and only chuckle. He can whip up steampunk junk and fry up bacon in a pan and never, never let me forget he's a man and almost always has impeccable taste.

But one thing on our junket through Florence today rattled him. You know it has to be good to rattle him.

Of course, I screamed, "Come over here. This falls in the category: What The Hell Is This Doing In An Antiques Store." That's what I screamed. But this a family-friendly blog, so I usually refer to things as, what the heck is this doing in an antiques store.

But this thing definitely reminded us both of hell.

I am not lying. The King actually said," What the hell is a Satan Pig doing in here? Pigs don't have horns. I believe this thing is one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse."

"You mean, the sign of Calypso?" I asked. "The tag says it's a Mexican folk art pig. Maybe Calypso made it's way into Mexico more than I suspected?"

"I said Apocalypse," the King said tersely.


Still stunned, I looked for reason and logic in the world of folk art and collectibles.

After all, I have Frida Kahlo collectibles and books. I am a huge fan. I know that Frida, even at her grittiest, would not inflict a Satan Pig into the world of folk art--nor would any folk artist of her fine nation.

 Yes, the King kept hissing,"It's a Satan Pig. You cannot explain it away,"  as he did the sign of the cross.

OK, there are certain things in the world of collectibles and art you just can't explain away. So in order to cleanse and absolve myself, I went on another junket in Florence, the antiques capital of Colorado-- to find more scary clowns. It turns out there are indeed scarier things than clowns.