I am dangerous with a paddle. A bidding paddle that is. (Which is weird because ‘a bidding paddle’ is usually just a bit o paper with a number on it, but ok, back to the point.)

Before you start thinking it’s because I am a girl & ‘we girls love to spend money,’ let me tell you, I can and have stopped bidding very early on of many items. More often than not, I have never even reaised my paddle. But there are times I am dangerous. So dangerous in fact, that I have to hand my paddle over to my husband, turn my back on the auctioneer, or even leave the immediate area, with my hands over my ears.

You might think this is when my favorite, most desirable, super-passions are up for auction, and they have risen beyond my pocketbook, but no. Amazingly I can stop then.

No, I am most dangerous when it comes to antique furniture.

Furniture goes so cheaply at auctions it brings me to tears.

I have been to auctions where entire antique oak dinning room sets, complete with leaves, 12 chairs, sideboards, & china hutch, can’t be given away for $150. I have seen splendidly carved mahogany tables with matching ornate sideboards, chairs & magnificent mirrors, not sell, for prices so low, that the auction seller was tossing them back into the truck, mumbling about ‘putting them back in the barn...’

It kills me it does.

I want to bid & buy them all.

The true danger is that I do win, that the rest of the auction sheep don’t follow, and I get that oak set for $150, the mahogany for $100 -- where on earth am I going to store them? Forget about proper storage, I don’t even have a barn to take it to. And if I did, I’d have it full in a week.

It amazes me the amount of antique furniture that sits neglected, that is ignored, that is left over at auction end, while people go out and spend $1500 on Formica, $2000 on chrome, or some other temporary piece of crap. Such mass produced pieces not only have no craftsmanship, but no real style. They are bland, tasteless items with no soul.

I like my furniture to have some soul.

The effort of work put in by the master who made it makes me more inclined to put the work into polishing it.

The pride of setting it, even with McDonald’s plastic Hercules movie promotional plates, must match that of the previous owner who used her wedding china for the first time.

Don’t they want pieces that last, not transient pieces they must replace every few years with others possessing an equally listless appearance?

Don’t people want charming, warm, inviting, personal items in their homes anymore?

Don’t they know that their collection of family photos, grandma‘s china, even ceramic poodles, will look better on the antique oak buffet with those curved sides with doors that open so you can store those wine glasses you rarely use) & sturdy carved legs?

And I won’t even comment on the nuts who try to ‘distress’ or ‘antique’ their furnishings. For the cost of the supplies for one piece alone, they could have several pieces, if not a complete set, of the real thing.

I guess no one appreciates real fine furniture anymore.

No one but me & my paddle. And we must remain silent, simply because I have no more room.