Night Owl Cards

  I am clinging to at least four dying sources of information ... some would say "dead" in some cases.   I work at a newspaper and still read one virtually everyday. I'm certain half of the current population couldn't tell you what one looked like. I write for a magazine and read that same magazine -- when I have time. Again, half the population would say something like, "my dad used to talk about those."   I'm still part of Facebook. I check it maybe every other day just to stay up on the few friends that are still on there. But many, many people deleted that app a few years ago, and again, people in their 20s consider it social media for aunts and uncles. And, finally, I still run a card blog -- and I expect it to supply me with information and entertainment just like all those other "archaic" mediums.   But clearly, my expectations are too high. My own blog is probably dying, too. I used to brag about the still-robust reader numbers for year...

   Among the large cities in Upstate New York, Syracuse is the one that I drive through the most. But it's not a destination city like Buffalo or Albany. It's a place where I brave the traffic on the way to somewhere else.   The only two exceptions are to watch minor league baseball or go to a card show. It's the closest large city to me so it does have its perks. But I don't know it very well. So when I realized there was a show coming up and that it was corresponding with a major highway renovation project in central Syracuse, I was concerned.   The normal route to the show at the fairgrounds would take me directly into detours, one-lane traffic and potential gridlock and confusion. I had to find an alternate route, in a city I don't know. Through years of self-navigation, in cities much larger than this, I've never relied on GPS. I thought this might be the time I'd need it. I activated it but never turned it on. In fact, I think I might have found a new ...

 (I've experienced a lot of low points in my 50 years as a Dodgers fan but last night's game might have topped them all. I think I finally see what lots of other Dodgers fans have seen for years. Time for Dave Roberts to go. Also time for Cardboard Appreciation! This is the 356th in a series):   You are viewing my 537th buyback from the 1975 Topps set. Yup, I'm still on this thing. In fact this year happens to be 10 full years since I first decided to collect the buybacks in the '75 set in an effort to get one of every card.   I knew then that it would be an impossible task. I still know that. But I also had no idea that I would get this far in the quest. I've passed 80 percent of the set in buyback form (81.3% to be exact). Didn't even know way back then that there were that many to chase.   Even with the boost from 2024 Heritage the quest is getting more and more tricky -- prices have rocketed on some of the ones I still need and I'm all too aware that som...

  I'm sure some set-collectors can relate this: I purposely avoid collecting certain sets that I like, even love.   It's mostly a means to keep myself in check -- I have only so much money, so much time and space, and an increasingly confused brain.   So it is with 1959 Topps, a set that I think is one of the greatest of the 1950s, a set I'm on record as really enjoying , but almost always avoid any time I come across a readily available '59 card.   Why is that, specifically? Let's explore (this is more a "me" exercise, sorry):   1. I know my lack of willpower. If I add a certain number of cards from a set -- not really sure how many, let's say 30 or 40 -- I'm going to automatically want to collect it. If I find it appealing, all those cards together are going to break down whatever walls I put up.   2. I need a break. I'm one card away from finishing 1969 Topps. I've been aware since I was probably 100 cards away from finishing that set ...

   I've written a few times over the last couple years about a collector I know. He was a co-worker. He didn't work in the same department but he used to come up to the office and we'd babble about cards.   Through the years he went from a collector who bought boxes and boxes of cards at the local Target/Walmart (I once encountered him and his girlfriend with a shopping cart full of blasters) to someone I saw at the monthly show with a table selling cards -- something that earlier on he couldn't see himself doing.   He died a week ago today. Heart attack. He was 53.   That is crazy young, younger than me. And all I could think of was a whole bunch of people that I see at card shows who are in bad shape -- much worse than the guy I worked with and often even younger. Since I heard about his death, it's been on my mind. Last weekend I went to an outdoor flea market and my mind fixated on the out-of-shape people, thinking "take care of yourself, dude!"   Core...

   It just doesn't seem possible that I'm still reaping the benefits of this blog, a means of communication and expression that is at least a decade beyond its peak.   I expect the perks to disappear eventually, I mean the days of receiving 3-5 random card packages a day in the mail are long gone, which is why I will value each benefit that still comes along.   A little over a week ago, I was in the grocery store getting some supplies for the new mini-fridge in my office at work. I steered over to the magazine display as I often do and spotted the most recent Beckett Vintage Collector -- just one -- staring at me.   I opened the edition to my story and snapped a picture. I still get a kick out of that. That's not the perk I wanted to write about. But we're moving in that direction.   For the last six years, writing magazine articles about cards has helped me obtain cards that in most cases I never would have been able to add to my collection. Baseball cards...