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Showing posts from July, 2013

The National came to me

I've never been to the National. And I won't be there in Chicago this week either. Sure, I'd like to go, but with family, work and financial obligations, it hasn't been high on the priority list. I know I'll miss the majesty of what is available at the show. Everything imaginable -- and unimaginable -- in the card world will be there. But that's why I have the internets. I've already seen some of the stuff that's available there this week. It's pretty amazing. Still, I'm a results guy. Looking at the splendor of it all is fine, but the question is: can you afford all that? My answer is "no, I can't afford all that." I can't afford the plane flight out, or the hotel room, or eating out all those days either. But lucky me, I don't have to afford all that. Because The National came to me on Monday. If I was going to go to The National, I'd shop there the way I shop at any card show. I'd look for my collec

C.A., the review 3 (part 8)

Before I get into the final vote-off that leads into the semifinals in Cardboard Appreciation, the Review 3, I'd like to mention a few baseball/hobby-related goings-on that have happened to me in the last 24 hours. Because everyone's just got to know 'bout little ol' night owl, right? First of all, if you haven't heard about the untimely passing of George "Boomer" Scott, I hate to be the one to break it to you. He died on Sunday at age 69. I have written at least a couple of odes to Scott during the life of this blog. He is, after all, a member of the Bad-ass Club and the man who taught me the importance of the home run . He is at the very center of my first real introduction to the powers of baseball. During that late spring/early summer of 1977, Scott was part of a Red Sox home run bash that was the topic of the sports world. As I mentioned in that earlier post, Sports Illustrated put out a story on Boston's HR binge and it became one of

Awesome night card, pt. 184: What if

I had one of my biggest card show fears realized yesterday. When I know that a card show is coming, I suddenly reacquire all of the irrational feelings that I had when I was a kid. I can barely contain myself and want to be at the front doors as soon as it opens because "what if the card show isn't there when I get there?" This particular show is a two-day show. Saturday and Sunday. I usually go on Saturday because ... "what if?" What if the dog gets sick and we can't go Sunday? What if a vicious storm appears on Sunday and wipes out the building? What if all the dealers pack up a day early because Saturday sucked so much? What if? What if? What if? I'VE GOT TO GO ON SATURDAY!!!!! But I couldn't go on Saturday this time. I worked late Friday night. I had to work on Saturday. There were family activities late Saturday afternoon. Sunday, meanwhile, was free and clear. So, fine, we'll go Sunday. Make a day of it. The show ta

No, Canada

I don't like saying this, but I don't think I can mail to anyone else in Canada anymore. Canadian collectors have been very good to me. For whatever reason, I seem to trade with a lot of them. And I hope to continue to trade with Big Brian, Trader Crack Ryan, Dollar Store Douglas and a few others. But I don't think I can add any more to the list. As you know, postal rates for shipping from the U.S. to Canada (and Mexico) went up in January. I've shipped cards to Canada since that time, but for some reason the cost really struck me in the last two weeks. Maybe it was because I was sending out more than one package to Canada at once, or maybe it's because austerity August is on the horizon. But when the postal worker announced the cost of the yellow mailer I was sending, I thought he was kidding: "$7.35," he said. I laughed. This particular postal worker jokes around a lot. Nothing wrong with that. Got to have fun at your job, right? Bu