Dig This Treasure!

So remember that time I got lured to an “estate sale” and instead ended up at a commune where they were spray-painting indoors?  I should have learned my lesson then about going off the grid, but apparently I didn’t.

I’ve been meaning to write about this insane adventure for awhile now, but haven’t had the chance.  So now, submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story, “The Tale of the Bone Collector.” [Throws magic dust into the fire.]

P.S. If you don’t get that Midnight Society joke, get outta here (or google it).

Ok, so a few months ago, I was driving through Redford and noticed this weird little hut on the side of the road.  It was small, and junky, and said “Antiques.”  Perfect! I love antiques!

This man greeted me, and he seemed nice enough.  A little strange but nice.  As I chatted with him more though, I got that feeling in my stomach that Oprah used to talk about–the one where you are supposed to drop whatever you are doing and run.  At one point, the man said, “Where do you live?”  And I told him “Livonia.”  And then he said, “No no, what’s your address?”

My address?  Hmm, this man didn’t appear to work for the post office, so the request was questionable to say the least.  I laughed the question off, and went inside to look at the “antiques.”

Things were weirder inside.  And dirty.  Like really super crazy dirty.

The floor for all I know was 2 feet below me.  I was walking on compounded debris. And there were bones everywhere.  I am not making this up.  Here is a bucket of bones.

Which is cool.  I like bones.  I like taxidermy.  In this context though, things felt real spooky.

Ok, and see that muscle man photo in the ziploc?  Here, I’ll zoom in:

That muscle man runs the place.  I forget his name, but here he is now:

Well, the back of him anyway.  This guy told me he was 88, but he didn’t look a day past 75.  I liked him.  He was nice.  A little messy, but nice.  I started asking him about his place, and about antiques.  And he told me about when he was a muscle man.  Things were good, 15 minutes passed.

Then he pulled out this binder, and told me he was going to show me something.  Something he doesn’t show many people.  I had that Oprah run-for-your-life feeling again, but I stayed.  What if he wanted to show me (and give me) a bunch of gold bars?  Or maybe he had photographic evidence of UFOs or solid proof of a JFK assassination conspiracy.  I had to know what was in the binder.

So what was in the binder?  See for yourself:

Alright…baseball pics.  Cool…

Look at the pen writing on the leg of that player.  Every photo had commentary like this.

If you can’t read that pen writing, it says, “THIS IS SAD FOR BASEBALL.  IF YOU ARE A TEAM, DRESS LIKE A TEAM,” and, “IS THIS WHAT BASEBALL IS COMING TOO?  PAJAMAS?”  And there are arrows pointing to all of the players ankles.  

As it turns out, this man is single-handedly on a crusade against the length of modern-day baseball pants.  And I think he has a point here.  Those pants look sloppy!

He explained to me that he collects this binder of photos, writes his commentary on them, and then mails an example every month to Mike Ilitch, the owner of the Detroit Tigers.  He then told me that he hasn’t heard back from Ilitch, so he’s been sending examples to the newspapers and local TV news stations.  

I didn’t really know what to tell him except to keep up his crusade and that he was, “Fighting the good fight,” which I really think he is.  Pull up your pants you dummies!

I didn’t buy any antiques, but I did leave with an asthma attack, and with a new realization that you really can collect anything.  Sarah collects gross porcelain, and I collect nice porcelain, and this man, well, he collects an arsenal of scribbled on baseball pics.

-Erin

After visiting the Southfield Antique Expo last weekend, I went home and took a brief nap, then met up with my parents to go to my favorite Plymouth auction.  My parents had never been to this auction, but they were used to my endless chatter about it being quite the honeyhole.  Sarah was planning to join us this evening, but when I arrived and saw the items for sale, I texted her and told her not to come.  Everything was REALLY lame.

I was bummed out because I knew how excited my parents were to score some treasures, and it really didn’t look like that was going to happen.

But then Timmy started unrolling some old posters, and realized they were some pretty rare hockey and baseball ones.  One poster in particular, of Gordie Howe, was something my dad had only seen one other time.  That one, had been all ripped up, and still sold for about $50.  The one here at the auction was in mint condition.  I knew that we were all in for a long night, and that Timmy was NOT leaving without those posters.

In the meantime, I bid on and won some old glass pharmacy bottles.  I paid $5 for all of them, and ended up selling them on ebay a few days later for $20.

Usually at this auction, an item goes up for bidding, and no one wants it.  The auctioneers then throw in another item, and so on and so forth, until someone finally bids.  At one point, someone ended up buying about 6 huge boxes of glassware for $5. They picked what they wanted out of it, and then announced that anyone who wanted to could come take stuff for free.

I grabbed a nice marble cheese plate, two Pyrex casserole dishes with lids, and this old cookie jar that looks like an orange.

I sold this thing for $14 on ebay already, which isn’t bad for something I got free.

I should also mention that Zach’s parents were at the auction, and his aunt and uncle.  Aunt Sue scored some nice dishes out of the free stuff pile, and Zach’s mom bought some nice antique silverplate pieces.  Zach’s dad was the winner by far, buying a cool old sword for a mere $40.

But then Timmy’s items came up for bidding, and it was clear he was going to be the night’s champion.  He bought a huge lot of the baseball posters for $13 first.  Then, the auctioneer tried selling 3 boxes of old hockey video games, VHS tapes, and ephemera.  Nobody bid on it, so the auctioneer threw in the Gordie Howe poster.  My dad started bidding against another guy, and I thought that the price was going to skyrocket.  The other guy bowed out at $16 and it was true happiness for Tim.  Here is a sample of the goods, including the desirable poster (far right):

He also got a huge folder with old war papers and documents.  Super cool.  And in the VHS tapes, he found a film about old Olympia Stadium and its official closing in 1979.  He is having it transferred to DVD and keeping it for his collection.

Here’s Tim later that evening, celebrating:

Fun fact is that my dad ONLY drinks Molson Ice beer, which no restaurant has because ANY ice beer is disgusting and embarrassing to order in public.  So in this photo, my dad is sampling a craft beer, which he ended up hating, and not ordering.  Another fact is that my dad once said, “Who drinks craft beer?” while we were AT a craft brewery, where he then proceeded to try and order a Molson Ice.

-Erin

My antique-filled birthday extravaganza continued with a trip to Greenmead a couple weekends ago.  Greenmead hosts an antique market every few months during the summer, and it is truly one of the best.

Zach and I found our first treasure pretty quickly.  It was this great old oil painting from 1922.  The painting is of a Greek ship called the Greek Frigate Hellas.  Here’s a Wikipedia all about this ship, which was part of the Hellenic Navy.

Next, I met up with one of our loyal DTT readers, a cool guy named Rudy.  Rudy had a booth at Greenmead, and had messaged us to ask if we would be in attendance.  I had assumed that Rudy was a woman, as most of our readers are.  When I walked up and asked for Rudy, and he introduced himself, I said, “OH I THOUGHT YOU WERE A LADY.”  I am obviously great with first impressions.  After that little snag, Rudy and I chit chatted about collecting.  His booth was all vintage toys and action figures.  He had some Magic cards, so I asked about the infamous Black Lotus card.  He didn’t have any, which is fine because I didn’t have the 1000 bones to buy it.

What I also want to mention about Rudy, is that he is a great testament to the potential of this blog.  I’m not just here to make fun of Sarah and write about porcelain I want.  I also hope that in time, we become a hub for people who are looking for certain items, or who have things that we want to buy.  So that said, Rudy is always buying and selling vintage toys, action figures, and also vintage knives and weaponry.  If you have some, or want to buy some, message us and we will pass along Rudy’s contact information.

OK, so on to more goods…

I found this old blow-up guy from the 1960s.  His hat says “Tigers” but I don’t think he is Detroit related.  I still bought him for Timmy because I knew he would want him for his Tigers-themed den, which has items exclusively from the 50s and 60s.  

I also bought a McCoy pitcher to sell, and a 1968 Detroit Tigers ticket stub.  Zach found an old Red Wings postcard and a small wood music box in the shape of a piano.  Here are some things we passed on:

Zach was pretty shocked that I didn’t actually buy that butter bowl.  He and Sarah have a running joke that I am the “buttermaster” because frankly, I love butter.  Really, I love all condiments or spreads.  I contend that there are way worse flaws to have in life, like buying every dog themed item you can find at an estate sale.  

-Erin

Update from Sarah: Why in the hell is that butter bowl TEN DOLLARS? And I would have bought that Tarzan patch. 

On our way out of the Valley of the Dolls sale, I caught a glimpse of Erin in the daylight. I’m not sure how we didn’t realize it inside, but that house was absolutely filthy. Look at how much dirt is on Erin’s face!!! 

Need a closer look? 

Hand sanitizer did nothing for us–it just created a disgusting dirt hand salve. 

Also, before I forget, check out these two things I scored at the sale. One is horrifying and the other is hopefully lucrative. 

Can you guess which is which? Just kidding. Anyone out there need a juggalette doll. 

The other really terrific thing that happened when we left was that we noticed a dog inside a parked car. Not a big deal most days. But when it’s 92 degrees outside, it’s a big deal. Even if you have the two front windows cracked one inch. This provided me with a great opportunity to use one of my Urban A$$hole cards, but that wasn’t satisfying enough. Because I didn’t want the dog to die. So not only did I call the Troy Police Department, but I went back inside the sale and ratted the dog’s owners as well. They were, as I suspected, giant a$$holes. 

After all that fun, we headed to one more estate sale that happened to be located about 50 miles away. The pictures looked good, but it turned out to just be another hoarder sale, but not the good kind. This person was a hardcore crafter, and the house was filled with scrapbooking gear and gross holiday decorations that were made in China. I still ended up spending about $40 at this sale, but Erin was a the true winner. I’ll let her tell that story, but that might end up being an entry of its own. 

-Sarah

Update from Erin: I was so sad when I found out my face was all covered in dirt.  I had been walking around that sale talking to people, including some teenage boys working at it!  How embarassing.  Talking to teenagers is the worst, let alone with dirt all over your sweaty face.

Sarah is right.  The second sale was totally bad hoarder.  Well, bad for us I guess.  No antiques or collectibles.  

This pretty much sums up the sale:

Although now that I post that, I feel like Sarah would have bought this if it was in her size.

I ended up finding a pair of wool clog slippers still in the box.  If you remember, I already bought a pair of bear slippers at a sale earlier.  I need slippers for all occasions though, and sometimes bear slippers are a little déclassé.  

I was getting super disappointed because I couldn’t find anything else to buy, and the sale was really crowded and hot.  Then I spotted something in a showcase up front.  It was a little mini Detroit Tigers nodder from the 1960s.  I knew from Timmy’s baseball collecting that mini nodders are generally rare, and this particular Tigers one was SUPER RARE.

I have no idea how it ended up at this sale.  It was like a shiny diamond in a pile of glass shards.  I was shocked.

The nodder was in seriously great shape.  No cracks, chips, paint loss.  The price on it was $165.  I NEVER spend that much at a sale.  The only time I think I’ve spent over $100 was at the “best sale ever”, and I walked out with a wagon full of items.

I called my dad and he told me that $165 is what he paid for his same version of this nodder, but that was years and years ago.  He told me he thought maybe it was worth $200-$250 now.  

So here’s the thing.  I actually LEFT this sale without the nodder, even though the sellers offered to come down on the price.  I kept telling Cindy and Sarah that it was “too risky.”  We made it about 1 mile down the road before I told Sarah to turn around so I could go back.

I bought the nodder for $120.  I was stressed and hyper about this.  My dad and I exchanged about 3 phone calls on the drive home to discuss this purchase.  I sent him photos of the condition, and we speculated if I had just got burned or not.

In the end, I got the opposite of burned.  This is so far the BEST single purchase I have ever made.  Literally within 30 seconds of listing this guy on ebay, he had a bid.  Things just went kind of crazy after that…

$429??? Truly the best.  I wish I had finds like this every week, but sometimes it’s all just bear slippers and kitten sweatshirts.

-Erin

Disclaimer: I wrote this post like a CRAZY LONG TIME AGO.  Long before our tragic break-up with RePurpose sales.  I’m posting this because it is interesting, funny, and involves my dad, who is the best person of all time.

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Cash & Cari has come up a few times on this blog already, mostly because we cannot resist the cameras and the cameras cannot resist us. The cameras also cannot resist my dad, Tim.

After my taxidermy fox purchase on the show, I got a call from one of the producers. He asked what I did with the fox (made mad cash), if I was going to come to future sales (yes), and what types of items I look for at sales (Zuni jewelry, total garbage knick-knacks, and re-sellable odds and ends).

At this point I decided to pitch my dad for a future episode of the show. He’s the total package–a super savvy collector who drives a hard bargain but also wears ankle socks with slip-on loafers. He’s funny, he looks like Santa, he takes iphone lessons at the Apple store, and HE WAS IN THE MOVIE WHIP IT. I could go on and on.

Anyway, my dad DID end up on Cash & Cari. And it turned out to be truly awesome.

I had mentioned to the producer on the phone that my dad collects vintage baseball memorabilia, specifically anything Detroit Tigers. They ended up inviting him to a sale that had a set of seats from the now-defunct Tiger Stadium.

The ensuing interactions between Cash & Cari and my dad were hilariously scripted and kind of awkward. They told him when and where to arrive at the sale and how to “scope out” the Tiger Stadium seats. He made several passes by the seats (on camera) and then was told to wait while a meeting with Cari was orchestrated.

The seats were marked six hundred dollars, which is pretty insane.

So Cari comes over and my adorable dad is all like, “Yeah, these are cool, but I would have to offer you a lower price on them.” He then goes on to explain that Tiger Stadium had a capacity of over 50,000 people and that all of the seats were auctioned off when it closed. That’s a lot of seats. These ain’t no royal thrones. You get the idea…

In addition, my dad already has Tiger Stadium seats. He got them for $275 at the original auction. He’s totally into having some more for his little baseball cave at home, but $600 would break the bank. He offers Cari $200.

From this point on, my dad is forever branded as a “lowballer.” The narrator even says this on the resulting episode.

Timmy-I-tried-to-rip-off-Cari-on-national-television. That’s my dad.

Cari says no to the offer and my dad goes to leave. The producers intervene and tell my dad to come back to the sale the following day. The storyline will be that my dad cannot resist him some stadium seats. He must have them. He will arrive back at the sale and try to lowball Cari again. This time, though, he will be victorious.

So my dad comes back the next day and haggles on-camera again. Cari shows him an iPad with an ebay listing that is selling similar seats for $499. My dad tells her that the seats in THAT listing are special VIP seats that were available in smaller quantities, hence the higher price. (This whole exchange ends up edited out of the episode).

Then, Cari sells my dad the seats for $225. In the episode that aired, the seats were listed as having an original selling price of $400, NOT $600. I think the producers realized that the original price was way-off and tried to correct how that might look. This is good because my dad looked like a little bit less of a lowballer…still a lowballer though.  Even the narrator called him a lowballer.  

Here is my dad in his purchased seats, throwing an American flag baseball in the air. I wish he was wearing a hat made out of apple pie.

-Erin

Update from Sarah: If you watch this episode, you can see the $600 price tag at one point.