Wassup!

I’m back from NYC and recuperated from my 27-hour return trip. Guess what? The asshats at Jetblue offered me a $200 travel voucher as a make-good for destroying a day of my life and treating me and my fellow passengers like mushrooms (kept in the dark and fed bullshit). Gee, thanks. That’s like Lufthansa offering the survivors of the Hindenberg a discount for a trip on one of their other airships. After all, what are the chances that another one explodes?

I was going to set up at Anaheim last weekend, but I had an accident in July and shredded two tendons and ruptured a ligament in my ankle, so I had to cancel. No way could I move in and set up on one leg. Not going under the knife yet, just a brace, hiking boots everywhere, and moderate pain. Oddly enough, after a few miserable days, the injury settled into a tolerable one and was able to I hobble through the East Coast National and Fanatics Fest, and spend a week in NYC walking an average of 7 miles a day, so it wasn’t debilitating, but lateral movement was the bugaboo, and the logistics at Anaheim require too much of that.

I am not heartbroken that I missed the show. It is a solid, well-run event, but it is apparent that the finances do not justify road trips for me any longer. The costs just eat me alive. Between table fees, travel costs, hotel, meals, etc., the first 2-3 days of a four-day weekend ‘away’ show basically constitute my break-even point. The Ontario show in February was mildly profitable but not worth five days of my life. Now that I am out of the punishment room at eBay, it is far more efficient to spend the same time stocking my (now revamped) eBay store with my show inventory. “Adam’s House of Cards and More” is the store name, in case you want to check it out. My wife and daughter vetoed my original store name ideas, “The Festival of Bric-A-Brac” and “The Crapateria”.

I will be doing the Pasadena show next weekend. That one is a commuter show for me with a very easy set-up, physically speaking. The only costs to me are the table fees and parking, which makes it decently profitable for me to spend the weekend there.

One more observation about big card shows that didn’t make it into my SCD article or into my screed is that most of what is for sale at a show has no interest to me as a collector. I’ve tried to give a crap about modern cards, I really have, and I don’t think of myself as old or reactionary, but most anything made after Upper Deck came on the scene in 1989 just doesn’t hold my interest. Oh, sure, there is the odd set here and there that I think is beautiful, but as a collector…meh. I particularly dislike refractors, chromes, and just about anything Panini makes. Athletes floating in space against geometric backdrops on plastic cards or made into cartoonish characters just do not work for me. I want to see players, ballparks, action photos…you know, the actual sport as the focus. Save the cartoony crap for Marvel and DC. Reality, what a novel concept.

My way of looking at a show also has morphed ever since I decided to really go after card dealing. I have 'license' to pursue all manner of items as long as I can make money on them. I bought a huge football junk wax collection because it was the right price. As a collector, I’d have walked by without a look, regardless of price. As a dealer, price is perhaps the key consideration. The converse is also true: if an item doesn’t have the potential for meaningful profits, I am at a loss for justifying the purchase for the business, even if I think that the item is cool as hell. I saw an amazing early NFL item at the East Coast National but it was expensive and would not have resold for what it cost, so better to leave it for a fanatic who will treasure it instead.

Overall, it's been a lot of fun on the buy side and very satisfying on the sell side when something sells at a big profit. Dealing is way more fun than practicing law. Devoting my energies to selling is not to say that I am done collecting. Far from it. I feel reinvigorated as a collector, but not as I expected. I've got a much smaller specific list of sports cards I want to pursue, and a far less budget-minded approach to them. When I know precisely which cards I want and they come up, going after them feels a lot easier. One side-effect of my broad-based approach to acquisitions for resale is that it has also broadened my collecting horizons. I'm now actively collecting nonsport cards and 19th century trade cards, for example. The latter have some pretty weird and interesting stuff, including anthropomorphic veggie ‘people’ cards. Looking at some of those, don’t tell me that people weren’t taking shroom trips in 1890. No way are those the products of sober minds.